Destiny of Insanity
by permanentsmile
Summary: Post TDK. My Joker is based on Heath Ledger's and Scott McClure's (Joker Blogs). Joker comes to Arkham and gets treated by Dr. Elaine Morgan, a fairly young psychiatrist who is struggling with her own relationship problems.
1. Dr Elaine Morgan

Gotham City, in daylight, really wasn't that bad for the most part. Sure there was the occasional bank robbery, daily muggings in the lower end districts, and usually someone being brutally murdered by a member one of the mob families that controlled the city... But it could have been worse. I was lucky enough to work enough swing shifts so I could usually go home when there was still light.

However, I did see my fair share at Arkham Asylum, where I worked as a Psychiatrist - the majority of my patients were Level One, so there usually wasn't too much hands-on grief with them. I had one patient for Level Two - Maximum Security - and she usually didn't give me too much grief. Poison Ivy was her alias, and she usually cooperated during our sessions. I showed respect for her "children," and towards the Earth in general, so she typically remained fairly calm. She was known to have violent mood swings, but there were times I felt like we had a fairly good connection; even when she was reassigned therapists after we spent six months working together, she gave the staff a lot of grief until I was reassigned as her doctor.

In the two and a half years I'd spent at Arkham, the worst patient I ever had the misfortune of encountering was Waylon Jones, otherwise known as "Killer Croc" to the public. He was terrifying in every way, and I was beyond thankful that I never had to treat him, let alone see him. I only had one run-in with him, and it was while security was moving him down to his cell. They had him shackled and leashed, and it looked like something out of a horror movie. The moment he turned to me and loudly sniffed the air, I felt my blood run cold.

"_I've got your scent_," he said in his gravelly voice, which left the effect of a poisonous snake bite in my veins. "I'm going to crush your body and eat your bones."

_Well, that doesn't sound very appetizing_, I thought at the time as I watched the guards pull Croc away.

Regardless of all the patients I've had over my fairly short career at Arkham, there's one who stands out for numerous reasons. They say they call him "the Joker"...

My morning started out normal as ever - I woke up at 4:30 after a fairly troubled night's sleep (my former colleague, Dr. Jonathan Crane, haunted my dreams once in a while. If you kept up with the papers, you'd know why), had my breakfast before feeding my cat (Maxwell), and went through the morning ritual of texting my partner "good morning." He would've already been awake for work, and we always talked while I got ready and he made his commute to Metropolis.

**_To Derek: _**

**_Good morning, sunshine _**

**_Sent: _**  
><strong><em>Fri, May 3rd 4:49 AM<em>**

He replied within a couple minutes.

**_From Derek: _**

**_Morning. Traffic is bad this morning. Some dickhead cut me off and nearly wrecked into another car _**

**_Received: _**  
><strong><em>Fri, May 3rd 4:52 AM <em>**

_Perhaps it'd help if there wasn't texting..._ I thought.

I threw together a quick lunch for later that day, since the food at Arkham was usually pretty expensive, and didn't taste that great.

**_To Derek: _**

**_Get a plate number? _**

**_Sent: _**  
><strong><em>Fri, May 3rd 4:55 AM<em>**

I finished putting together a cheese, tomato, and lettuce sandwich and tossed it in my insulated "lunchbox" (I could never remember if they had an official name or not), then proceeded to put my wavy, dark brown hair up into a bun.

**_From Derek: _**

**_No. How you doing? _**

**_Received: _**  
><strong><em>Fri, May 3rd 4:58 AM<em>**

At that time, I was hurrying out the door and on my way to work. I replied with an "_I'm doing okay. How are you?_" and rushed to the underground parking lot to get in my car, forgetting to bid Maxwell a good day. There was a chance he could snub me for that when I'd get home.

Derek and I had been together for a few years. We lived on opposite ends of the city, and I worked longer shifts than him. He had to commute an hour to Metropolis five days of the week, so actually seeing each other outside of a Skype call was pretty difficult. He wasn't a touchy-feely kind of guy, so we didn't go on dates or have romantic dinners. As far as the other stuff goes... well, I'll just leave it at that for now.

Derek and I texted more as I made the twenty minute journey to Arkham. We agreed to try getting together the following day, since our schedules both looked pretty open (his could change at any time, since he worked for his family's business; mine could change depending on how hostile the patients were). Once I arrived at work, I let him know that I'd text him on my break if I had time, and wished him a good day.

"Good morning, Dr. Morgan," I heard a friendly voice say as I walked into the Intensive Treatment wing.

"Good morning, Janine." I smiled at the short, blonde-haired nurse, who was one of my favorite people at the hospital. "Excited for another day of fun here at Arkham Island?"

A light-hearted giggle escaped her thin lips.

"Never a dull moment. Ladies night out some time?" She handed me a chart for one of my Level One patients.

"Definitely." I grinned.

Janine was about to say something when fast-approaching foot steps cut her off. We looked up in unison to see the Head of Nursing approaching us with a chart in her hands.

"Talk to you later," Janine whispered before scuttling off.

"Good morning, Rosina," I greeted.

"Good morning, Dr. Morgan. New patient arrived last night - I think you might be familiar with him..."

She handed me a chart and I opened it, only to be greeted with a mugshot of a man wearing clown makeup.

"Batman brought him in last night. Dr. Arkham himself appointed you, given your success rate with patients." Her dark eyes met my own. "I'm not sure how much TV you watch, Doctor, but be careful with him. He's one of the most dangerous ...'_people_' ... I've seen in recent years."

I studied his chart, feeling a little disoriented over the thought of actually talking the man who threw Gotham into a tailspin while laughing the whole time. Also, there was a rumor floating around that he blew up Gotham General while wearing a nurse outfit. If people hadn't died and the city's best hospital hadn't been destroyed, it'd almost be funny.

"Any damage?" I asked as I closed his chart.

"Mostly cuts and bruises. Nothing broken, surprisingly. We had him hosed down this morning, so don't expect the theatrics."

"Of course. I'll set up an appointment with him for this afternoon." I thanked her and went to my office, and prepared my appointments for that afternoon and the following week, along with shuffling through all of the paperwork I was a bit behind on.

I took my lunch break at noon, only an hour away from my appointment with my new patient, labelled "4479." He had no real name that was documented, and his prints didn't match any on record. All morning I heard the staff and some of our more aware patients whispering about the Joker being brought in. A couple staff members who knew I was put on the case gave me criticizing looks, given how young I looked compared to some of the other doctors, and probably because I was one of the only female doctors there.

Just when I was about to take a bite out of my sandwich, I heard my cell phone ringing, making a nearby security guard (Nicole Sanders, whom I got along with) jump a little in her seat.

"Derek?" she asked as she took a spoonful of her pistachio pudding.

"Naturally." I sighed and answered.

"Hey, Elaine," he said in his semi-nasally voice.

"Hi, sweetheart. How's work?"

"Busy." I heard some guys laughing in the background, followed by him "shush"ing them. "How are things at the crazy house?"

I scowled a little at the derogatory term. He was never that supportive, but I always assumed it was because of the dangers my job had. He didn't really like to delve into personal feelings too much.

"Things are fine here at the _hospital_," I said with as little bitterness as possible. I cleared my throat and smiled a little. "So... What time do you want to get together tomorrow?"

He sighed. "About that... I can't make it . I have practice."

I frowned. "When'd you find out about that?"

"Half an hour ago. Maybe we can try for a different day?"

_He went ahead with his stupid band practice when we already had plans? That's nice._

"Yeah, maybe," I said coolly.

"Elaine..." he started in a semi-stern tone.

"No, no. I get it. Your hobbies are important. Of course, we haven't been face-to-face in a month, but..."

Nicole stopped spooning pudding into her mouth to give me a look of disbelief.

"I know. We'll try for Sunday. I don't have anything going on so far."

"Yet," I added.

"Right. Anyway, I need to get back to work. I'll talk to you tonight." I could hear his co-worker buddies chatting and snickering in the background.

"Okay. Be careful. Bye, Derek."

"Yep, see ya." I hung up and rolled my eyes, irritated how something always came up, or how he would frequently backseat our plans.

"I take it things still aren't heading towards a Chapel in a white gown with Derek," said Nicole.

"No, but does that really surprise you?"

She smiled a bit, almost sympathetically.

"No. Sorry, Doctor."

We sat there for a bit and ate our food in silence.

_About three years and still no consummation... Is this even normal? _I thought.

_Maybe he's just not that into me. Why keep me around? I need to stop letting myself dwell on this._

I shook my head and looked at Nicole, whose mocha skin seemed to glow under the golden sunlight pouring into the breakroom.

"How are things with Greg?"

She giggled at the sound of his name. If you only heard her while she was on duty, you'd never guess she was capable of giggles and smiles, since she was one of the most stern, hard-working guards in the hospital.

"Good. He's picking me up later tonight to go to the Iceberg Lounge for drinks."

I smiled. "How'd he manage to swing that? I heard that place is hard to get into."

"Beats me. But hey, I'm not complaining. Possibly free drinks, and hopefully a great time!" Her excitement practically lit up the room.

"I hope so. I'd tell you to stay safe, but I think you could take any scumbag who'd try anything."

"Damn right!" she said as she went back to eating her pudding.

I checked my watch - nearly half an hour had passed.

"I'd better get ready for my new patient," I said as I stood up.

She watched me with her big, brown eyes that could almost hypnotize you.

"I caught a glimpse of him during rounds last night," she said. "Careful, Elaine. He's..." She sighed. "He's something. Try not to stare at his face much."

"I've probably seen worse." I smiled a bit, though I really couldn't deny that I was pretty nervous about the session. "See you later, Nicole. Have fun tonight!"

"Will do!" I heard her say as I exited the room, and made the trek back to my office to collect patient 4479's paperwork.


	2. Patient 4479

I approached the therapy room at one PM on the dot, and felt my confidence in my skills falter. Why me? Why not Dr. Young, who had more experience in dealing with Level Two patients than I? Regardless, I needed to suck it up and do my best to keep calm and not let anything he'd say get to me.

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the room, nodding to Lyle Boles, who didn't bother to acknowledge me and just opened the door. The lights flipped on and my eyes immediately landed on a figure in a straight jacket, who was shackled to a chair.

_That wasn't dramatic or anything,_ I thought.

I closed the door behind myself and took a seat across from him. He slowly looked up at me through his curtain of greasy, green-tinted hair. His lips stretched, widening his Chelsea smile. It was one of the most eerie things I'd ever witnessed.

"Good afternoon. I'm Doctor Morgan. I will be your therapist during your stay here at Arkham," I said with as much courage as I had in that moment.

_Christ. Sounds like you're welcoming him into a hotel or something._

He tipped his head up and I was met with a pair of striking brown eyes. Beautiful, velvety eyes that held no light in them.

"'Afternoon... Doctor," he drawled, watching me with interest.

"Would you mind stating your name, please?"

He let out an airy chuckle.

"Now why would I suddenly do that?" He kept his eyes fixed on me, burning through my flesh. "You can call me 'Mister J.'"

I sighed, already knowing he wasn't going to be easy to work with.

"Okay... I guess we'll just start out slower, and work our way up. How are you doing today?"

He wiggled a little in his seat, smirking.

"A bit restrained, Doc. Although... I'm feeling _much_ better now that I'm in such... _lovely_ company."

I felt a shiver go up my spine as I watched him lick his lips. He suddenly tipped his head to the side, squinting his eyes.

"Apache?" he asked.

I stared at him, confused by his words.

_Judging by some of the footage that's been on the news, and the report I was given on him, he didn't spout random stuff out._

"You're Native," he said. "So... ? Apache? Shoshoni?" He leaned forward a bit. "Cherokee?"

I couldn't help it - I did smile a little.

_Don't._

"You were closer location-wise with the first two guesses," I said as I clicked my pen.

He grinned and sat back in his seat.

"Navajo?"

"Correct. I see you're educated on diversity."

"I do find people fascinating, Dr. Morgan. Especially women as beautiful as you." His head was down again, and he gave a slight wiggle of his eyebrows.

_That wasn't creepy or anything._

I cleared my throat and looked down at my papers, beginning to take notes on his movements.

"You seem a little nervous," he said, obviously feigning compassion. "Tell me - is it the scars?"

"No. I've seen much worse in my time," I said, immediately thinking of Victor Zsasz.

"A doctor as young-looking as you couldn't have seen much in her pretty little lifetime."

Our eyes met. I saw one of the corners of his mouth twitch as my fingers tapped the tabletop.

"I'm older than I look," I said calmly. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? What kinds of things make you happy?"

"Oh, this is _that_ kind of therapy session," he said, clicking his tongue. "How disappointing. I was hoping for a very _different_ kind."

Another couple wags of his eyebrows and I was on the verge of scoffing and rolling my eyes. I had to admit, though, if you looked past all the bad things he did (and took away the scars), he would have been a very attractive man. He definitely could have posed in magazines.

I cleared my throat. "I would prefer to keep this professional, please."

He suddenly leaned back as much as he could in his seat; I heard his feet struggle against the shackles as he attempted to get more comfortable.

"Are those pretty tight?" I asked, feeling a slight twinge of sympathy.

_Sure, the guy kills a bunch of people, but let's have some pity for him. There's using that logic._

"The ape wanted to make sure I wasn't about to launch out at the pretty doctor coming in to talk to little old me. They did a body cavity search before tying me up in all of this, y'know," he said, licking his lips again. "I would be lying if I said I didn't think of at least twelve different ways I could've killed them on the spot."

_Well, I can't exactly blame him there. That would be humiliating_.

_Elaine. Stop. _

"Anyway, I like fireworks," he stated in a quickened tone, tapping his feet on the floor. "I enjoy a good explosion, but don't let that give you the impression that I'm ostentatious - I'm a man of simple tastes. I like knives, gunpowder, a little gasoline... Simple."

I wrote all of this down as he spoke.

"The fireworks... They make you smile?"

"I'm always smiling, Dr. Morgan." He squinted again as he stared at me. "What does the 'E' stand for?"

I chose to ignore his question.

"Do you like music? Art? Any books?"

"Oh, I think we've talked enough about me. Let's talk about _you_," he said, his voice getting deeper as he spoke. "So what does the 'E' stand for? Emily?"

"No."

"Elizabeth? You don't look like an Elizabeth. Elizabeths are all stuffy and uptight. You look like a woman who can let her hair down and be _wild_," he said with excitement in his voice.

I did smile a little. He was kind of amusing.

"No, my name is not Elizabeth."

"Emma? Emilia? Erica? ... Edward?" He raised his eyebrow.

"None of those." I laughed a bit.

"Then could it be... _Elaine_?"

I paused as I stared down at his chart.

"Ah... Found it. _Elaine_. I like the way that sounds. Mind if I call you Lainey?"

I looked up at him in time to see him lick his lips again, staring at me intently.

"As I stated earlier, I'd prefer we kept this professional."

"If you say so, Doc. Tell me, is there a _Mister_ Morgan around?" He shifted in his seat again.

"I am not married," I replied.

_You're not supposed to disclose personal information, idiot._

"I don't care much about music," he said suddenly.

I looked up at him, wondering why he was answering my questions at random.

He stared back at me with those beautiful eyes. He didn't have the gaze that a lot of my patients had - the one where you_ knew_ what was wrong with them, be it some form of mental illness, drug addiction, breakdown... He didn't have that glassy look. His eyes showed almost no emotion.

He suddenly leaned forward in his seat, making me jump a little. He licked his lips as he gave me a quick up and down look.

"If I had to guess that there's a guy in your life, he's not giving you what you need. Am I right?" His voice was low.

"I..."

_Dammit. Stop being so weak-minded! You're his doctor. Act like one!_

"I'm not at liberty to discuss my personal life. This session is about you, and our treatment plan. I think I'm going to prescribe _Lithium_ to start out with, and see how you do on that. Does that sound alright to you?"

He smirked.

"I can get drugs just like that, huh? Boy, you people waste no time in trying to turn us into zombies."

"It's not like that, Mister..." I frowned, not knowing what to call him, since 'Joker' seemed so ridiculous. "It's just not like that."

"Really? Because I saw about twenty patients downstairs and I've seen more awareness in a zombie apocalypse movie."

_Ah! So he does watch movies._

He sat back in his seat again, wiggling some more. His shoulders were pretty broad, but I knew he had good height to him. I couldn't get a very good view on what his build was actually like.

_Stop thinking about his body. What are you even doing?_

He smirked, probably knowing that I was staring too long.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Doc?" he asked quietly. "You know... If you dropped by my cell some time, I definitely wouldn't complain." He licked his lips.

And in the back of my mind, very far back where there was no logic and no intelligence, I was picturing the scenario. Never mind that he could kill me easily, never mind that I could be fired and have a horrible reputation. No, it was all about how a guy was willing to fuck me. And probably kill me afterwards.

I looked away, feeling the apples of my cheeks burn.

"That would be very inappropriate, like most of this session. Tell me about the murders - how did you feel when you took those peoples' lives? Is there any remorse?"

He gave me that squinty-eyed look again.

"Why would I feel something like that?" He adjusted himself, continuing to wiggle a bit in his straight jacket. "Most of them were pawns - they served their purpose in my little game, and kept Gotham distracted while I worked."

"Why did you feel the need to cause so much chaos and cost the city millions of dollars and numerous lives?"

"Well that, Lainey," he grinned as he said my name, "is a story for another day. Wouldn't want to get everything out in one session, now would we?"

_It might save me from having to sit with you for very long._

A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again.

"I hope you don't get used to the face being like this. The next time you see me, I'll probably be a little more, ah... recognizable."

I raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that?"

"They want me scrubbed clean of my makeup for some crazy reason."

"I believe it's the hospital's policy to keep patien-" There was a knock on the door before Lyle opened it, interrupting me.

"Time's up, clown," he said as he entered the room, pulling a dolly in behind him. "You gonna cooperate this time?"

Joker stared at the dolly with disgust. Lyle turned his back to adjust the dolly for Joker to be strapped to when Joker pulled one arm free to wave at me, then quickly put it back behind his back. I felt like I could have screamed - he could have done anything during our time together, and Lyle wouldn't have known the difference if I couldn't get to the panic button in time.

I watched Lyle load Joker on the dolly and strap him onto it.

"Remember what I said," Joker said with a wink as Lyle wheeled him out of the room.

All I could do was sit in my chair and watch him disappear around the corner.


	3. Biting Fingers

My first therapy session with the Joker went better than I expected, although it was still fairly uncomfortable (which I expected anyway). I scheduled a session with him that coming Tuesday, that way I could give myself enough time to prepare mentally for what I knew was going to be my greatest challenge to date.

Saturday came and went, and I barely heard from Derek during that day and partially into the evening (I had that weekend off), then we talked on _Skype_ for a few hours. My day was mostly spent with Maxwell, and the most we did was watch movies on _Netflix_. I watched one called "_The Purge_," and it made me think of the Joker - it was something that could possibly be up his alley. Maybe he saw it before, and it could be something to talk about during our next session.

_Are you crazy? The last thing you want to do is reinforce the madness._

Derek was supposed to come over on Sunday to spend the afternoon at my place. I was hoping it would give us both the chance to unwind, maybe sip a little wine, get a bit close... We never had sex, but we did other stuff. I was (almost desperately) hoping to take it to the next level with him, though I wasn't completely sure how he felt on the matter.

When Sunday came, I spent the better portion of the morning getting myself dolled up for him - I showered, shaved my legs and waxed the other places where I didn't want hair growing, and put on my favorite shade of pink lipstick. I studied myself in the mirror after I finished my makeup routine; I was a bit more curvy than slim, and I was a decent height compared to most of the women in my family (I was 5'6"). All in all, I wasn't horrible or anything, but I definitely saw more attractive women than myself on a regular basis, so there was definitely no reason for me to feel arrogant about my looks.

Right after I finished styling my hair, which reached the middle of my back and desperately needed trimming, my phone rang. It was a little after noon, and too soon for Derek to call.

**_Arkham_** my caller I.D. read.

_Great..._ I thought.

"Doctor Morgan speaking," I answered as I set down my brush.

"Dr. Morgan, this is Dr. Young calling. I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off, but we need you to come in. Patient 4479 has become violent, and needs to be seen immediately. I would do it myself, but I'm not authorized."

_Well... On the bright side, I can get back at Derek now for ditching our plans for yesterday._

"Of course. I'm leaving right now," I said as I left the bathroom, grabbing my work bag.

"Thank you, Dr. Morgan," and with that, she hung up.

I sent Derek a text letting him know what happened, and apologized (though I really didn't feel _that_ horrible for canceling on him), then shut my phone off so I wouldn't have to deal with any repercussions right away.

I arrived at Arkham in about half an hour (rush time in Gotham was holy hell), and was greeted by Nicole.

"Whoa! Hot doctor in the house!" she teased as I put on my white coat.

"Ha ha," I said dully. "Dr. Young called about patient 4479, but didn't tell me what happened. Do you know anything about the situation?"

"Only thing I know is that Russell was supposed to be on patrol up there, and then an alarm went off and three guys including Bolton ran up there."

"That doesn't sound good. I'll try to fill you in if I can," I said quietly so nobody around us (only a few nurses, another guard, and a janitor) could hear.

"Ten-four," she responded. "Good luck."

I waved as I walked off, heading towards the therapy room where I was told my patient would be.

When I arrived, Lyle was standing outside the door just like the other day, only he looked more pissed than usual.

_Oh, boy._

"About time," he said in a snippy voice. "Your patient has been nothing short of a nightmare the last couple days."

"What has he done?"

Lyle's crossed arms seemed to flex a bit, as he tensed up more than usual.

_If someone were to shove a piece of coal up his ass right now, he'd shit out a diamond within a week._

"He's been hell-bent on getting his face paint back on, so he's substituting with whatever he can." He leaned down a bit (he had over half a foot on me), appearing more menacing than usual. "And when I say 'whatever he can,' I mean it."

"So... I was called in because he has his makeup back on?" I asked slowly.

"No. You were called in because the _freak_ bit Russell's finger off."

_Well, Russell is a dickhead who's been known to be a bit rough with patients in the past. I can't say I fully blame him. _

_Would you listen to yourself? You're defending a murderer!_

I feigned disgust (I was secretly amused. He really was a dick) and covered my mouth.

"Why did he do that?" I asked in my best shocked voice.

"No idea. He's refusing to speak to anyone but you,_ Doctor_," he sneered.

I didn't say anything else, already feeling annoyed with Lyle since he was a Grade A douche in general. I knew how he felt about women in the work place, so I gave him as little of my time as possible.

I entered the room and saw a more familiar face than the last time it greeted me - he had his full makeup on, and his hair appeared cleaner than the last time I saw it, so I assumed a few nurses had to wrestle him into a tub within the last couple days.

_Why do I want to see that..._

"Good afternoon," I greeted as the door shut and secured itself behind me.

Joker looked up, lips gleaming a darker red than his past look. I saw his permanent smile widen.

"Well, hello there," he said, wiggling in his straight jacket, keeping his eyes locked on me. "Did you make sure you were primped for this meeting, too? I must say, you look _ravishing_, Doc."

I blushed. It wasn't every day you were complimented by a sociopath in clown makeup.

"Pink looks nice on you, but I think you'd look _much_ better in _red_..."

"Speaking of makeup, how'd you manage all of this?" I asked, gesturing towards his face.

"Well, for the eyes I stole some shoe polish," he started, reclining his head back a bit. "I managed to get some baby powder from Crane -" he paused. "At least, I think it was baby powder... But nobody around here would give me lipstick. Shoe polish and baby powder come easy, but _lipstick_?"

_Imagine that..._

"That guard with the dumb look-"

"Bolton?" I asked a little too quickly, earning a slow laugh from him, which quickly escalated into a loud, hyena-type howl.

"The _ape_," he said, his voice suddenly turning angry, stripped of all amusement. "No, no... The other one with the high-pitched voice."

"Russell?"

"Yeah, _him_. Well, he manhandled me for the third time since I've been here, and y'know... I really _don't_ enjoy monkeys like that putting their hands all over me, so I bit his finger off. Now my look is complete!" He grinned again, suddenly seeming a little perkier, though the emotion almost looked forced.

_Jesus christ... On one hand, I'd like to praise him for doing something about that turbo dickhead, but on the other, that'd be against the rules._

"You can't bite off peoples' fingers, Jo-" I frowned from almost saying his alias.

"Even the ones who deem it necessary to be rough with me when I've been behaving?" He wiggled in his seat. "Y'know, I was hoping to be out of the shackles the next time I saw you." He sighed.

_Fat chance,_ I thought.

Then it sunk in that he had another man's_ blood_ on his mouth. I did my best to hide my cringe.

"Are you likely to do this again if we strip you of your makeup again?"

"Uh... _Duh_," he said, licking his lips.

I shuddered at the thought of the copper taste on his lips.

"I'll see what Dr. Arkham has to say... Perhaps we can work something out."

_Yes. Let's cater to his madness. _

He grinned. "Let's hope so. Otherwise, their dear Russell still has nine fingers left for me to work with."

_He could do that anyway if he wants. I wouldn't be too upset._

"Are the rest of the guards treating you fairly well?"

He wiggled a bit more in his straight jacket, then managed to get one arm free to stretch. At that point, I assumed he'd been free since before I came into the room, and hoped that him not lashing out at me meant that he had no intention on harming me... that time, anyway.

"There are a few I'd like to introduce to some of my... _dear_ friends," he said quietly, voice very low. "A couple walk past my cell and make it a point to peep into the window to look at me like I'm some sort of bear in the zoo. Them I don't like, either."

_He has a good reason, I can't deny that._

"The others don't even look at me, or say hello. I don't really care."

"If I get the opportunity to speak to Dr. Arkham, I'll let him know how you're being treated and will see what can be done about that."

He smiled at me, appearing to be satisfied.

"How kind of you, Doc."

"I think that should be enough, now. No more biting fingers?" I asked as I stood up.

"No more biting fingers," he repeated, putting his arm back into place.

I collected his paperwork and pushed my chair back in. I suddenly felt his hand come out and roughly grab my wrist. I did my best to not let out a small scream.

"My offer still stands," he said, licking his lips as he stared up at me through his wavy locks. "Feel free to visit any time... _Lainey_." He laughed quietly as he released me.

I cleared my throat and straightened myself.

"As tempting as that sounds... No, thanks. I will see you on Tuesday, at one o'clock. I trust you'll do your best to behave yourself until then."

His arms went back into straight jacket position; he stared up at me with an innocent look.

"I give you my word."

As I left the hospital, I turned my phone back on, only to be greeted with five texts from Derek.

_**From Derek: **_

_**Ok **_

_**Received: **_  
><em><strong>Sun, May 5 12:14 PM <strong>_

_**From Derek: **_

_**I was thinking... U really shouldn't hound at me about canceling our plans for stuff when u are doing the same thing **_

_**Received: **_  
><em><strong>Sun, May 5 12:28 PM <strong>_

_**From Derek: **_

_**Maybe next week will work for us **_

_**Received: **_  
><em><strong>Sun, May 5 12:58 PM <strong>_

_**From Derek: **_

_**? **_

_**Received: **_  
><em><strong>Sun, May 5 1:19 PM <strong>_

_**From Derek: **_

_**Text me when you're done **_

_**Received: **_  
><em><strong>Sun, May 5 1:36 PM<strong>_

I replied to let him know I was done and going home. It was well after two, and there was still plenty of daylight left. I invited him over again, and he accepted my offer (although, after that second text, I really should've just ignored him for a while).

_Let's see how this goes..._


	4. A Man of His Word

"So... How's work treating you?"

My question seemed to snap Derek out of his thoughts. He'd been at my apartment for half an hour, and in that amount of time I was more entertained by talking to Joker than sitting mostly in silence, watching Derek daydream about whatever went through his mind.

_I wonder if they took his makeup off yet. It's only been a couple hours, but still..._

"Okay. Almost finished with the blueprint for this one couple's house, so we'll probably be able to start building by the end of the month, as long as they get the necessary permits and all that." His voice seemed a little more detached than usual.

I scooted a little closer to him on the sofa and wrapped my arms around his bicep. He stared down at me with his piercing blue eyes.

"I heard the Joker is at Arkham. Have you caught a glimpse at him yet?"

"He's my patient, actually." I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Whoa... _What_?" He brushed me off and turned towards me, looking at me in disbelief. "Uh... You couldn't have made it a point to mention that on the first fuckin' day?"

"You never asked," I replied in a calm tone.

He sat back in his seat, letting out what sounded like a scoff.

"What's the freak like?"

I scowled. "_Freak_" ... What a rotten word.

"My _patient_ is actually quite fascinating. He's been nice to me, and has cooperated during our sessions."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Elaine, how many of your wacko patients have been nice to you in the past and it almost _always_ ended badly? You're too sympathetic with these monsters."

"Some of these people are actually very ill, Derek. They need a little sympathy and someone to listen to what's going on in their heads. It's actually pretty sad sometimes."

"Because they were poor and Mommy never loved them enough?" He shook his head. "You need a new job. Talk to some more normal people. Honestly, I don't know why you stay."

"Because the pay is good and there are people there who are relying on me to help them?" I felt my patience quickly wearing thin.

"You can do that somewhere else where there aren't freaks wearing makeup or freezing their wives."

_Which was done out of love, so I'm sure he wouldn't be able to grasp that concept._

"What are we even doing, Derek? We haven't seen each other in nearly a month. We should be making the most of this."

A smirk quickly spread on his thin lips as he reached down for the zipper on his jeans.

"I know a way you can make up for it..."

_Oh gee, another blow job. What a surprise._

"Why don't we try something else for once? Switch it up a little?" I smiled at him hopefully.

"Why? I already know I like this."

He took his dick out and put his hand on the back of my head, trying to push me down. I pulled away from him.

"We always do this. Why don't we try something else? I'm on the pill, and I have extra protection. I mean... We could take it a step further. I'm completely comfortable with it."

He frowned.

"Why are you refusing to suck me? You always gladly did it before."

"I was sort of thinking we could do something that we'd both get enjoyment out of..."

"I could finger your asshole this time," he said as he stroked his dick.

"Derek, that would be more to your benefit. You know how I feel about that," I said quietly, feeling more glum.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he stopped touching himself.

"You don't want to suck me any more?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"It's not that. I'd just like to go a little further now. It's been about three years, and we still haven't had sex."

"Well, I like blow jobs, and you know that. What's wrong with keeping it the way things are?" He grinned.

I felt my stomach sink at his words.

_I'm never going to get any._

"I just want a little more out of this relationship, that's all..."

Derek rolled his eyes and put his dick away, then zipped up.

"Always something, isn't it?" he asked in a snarky voice as he got up.

I watched him walk towards the door and put on his coat.

"Where are you going?" I asked as I stood up.

"Leaving. We'll try this again some other time when you're not defending psychos and refusing to give me the only thing I ask for."

And with that, he walked out the door. I stood in front of the sofa for a bit before slowly sinking to the floor, feeling hot tears spill out of my eyes. Maxwell approached me within a minute and rubbed himself against my legs. I lifted him up, and placed him on my lap, only to have him butt his head against my chin and rub his paws on my chest.

"At least I have you, Max," I said quietly, sniffling and biting back the rest of my tears.

I returned to work the following day for my normal shift. I had a session with Poison Ivy, and it went better than usual. She was in a good mood because she was given a ficus since the last time we we were together, and she spoke very fondly about it. She asked me if I could try to sneak in plant food for her again, and I told her I'd at least try. I did feel bad for her - she really did care about the earth, and had the same fairly low opinion over the general population of humans that I had.

Nicole was chipper when we had lunch together. She told me all about her date with Greg at the_ Iceberg Lounge_, and how she caught a glimpse of its owner, Oswald Cobblepot.

"He has an English accent!" she said excitedly. "I almost never hear that in person!"

She asked about Derek, and I told her what happened the previous day.

"What a dick," she said as she rolled her eyes. "I think you oughta move on, Elaine. Greg might have some single friends! Heck, maybe his brother is single. Ashton is a lot like Greg. She grinned.

"If just breaking up with him was that simple, I'd have already done it." I sighed. "Maybe I need to lose weight and gain some sort of talent. Maybe I'd be more worthy."

Nicole looked like she was about to take her flashlight off her belt and whack me with it.

"You better not let me catch you talking about yourself like that again." She laid down her turkey melt. "There's not a damn thing wrong with you, and if he doesn't want to take care of your needs as well, fuck 'im. You can do better."

_As if. _

After lunch, I called Dr. Jeremiah Arkham to speak to him about patient 4479. He wasn't too shaken over the news of what happened the previous day.

"I never liked Russell," he said quietly. "He threatened to repeat his actions if we don't supply him with his makeup?"

"Correct, Doctor," I responded as I sat back in the soft leather chair in my office. "You let Dr. Crane keep his mask, minus the gas line. Why not allow patient 4479 keep his makeup? It's a large part of his identity, and losing that this quickly might have negative effects on his treatment."

He was silent for a moment.

"I suppose you have a point, Dr. Morgan. I'll fax a statement A.S.A.P. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Yes. Some of the guards have been rough with patient 4479, and patient 42970 complained to me today about being mistreated by Officer Bolton. I'm not trying to narc, Doctor, but I am a little concerned for my patients and how this could set them back in their treatments."

"I understand, Doctor. I will include this in my statement to the hospital. Anything else?"

"No, Doctor. Thank you for taking time out to speak with me. I appreciate it."

_I don't actually care about talking to him, but I should sound grateful in case there's a chance I could get a raise..._

"Have a nice day, Dr. Morgan," he said in a satisfied voice.

"You too, Doctor. Goodbye."

Monday wrapped up fairly quickly. Derek and I talked some that day, and a little bit in the evening. He didn't apologize for how he was, and I accepted that. At that time, I wasn't that concerned with what was going on with us anyway - I had an interview with the Joker coming up, and he seemed to be the only one holding my attention for a couple days straight.

_No problems concerning him today. I'm hoping this is a good sign._

When I entered the patient interview room, my jaw nearly fell off its hinges from shock. Joker was sitting there, feet shackled to the floor, with no other restraints on.

"Good afternoon," I said in my least surprised voice. "I see you must have been on your best behavior."

He grinned at me.

"Like I said, Lainey... I'm a man of my word."

I sat across from him and opened his chart, trying to remain calm when there was a risk of him reaching out and strangling me at any moment.

"I also see Dr. Arkham has given staff permission to give you access to your makeup," I said, noting his notorious facepaint.

"After that little call you made yesterday, they're given me as much makeup products as I want." He licked his lips as he stared at me.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I watched his tongue dart across his lips.

"Y'know," he said as he adjusted himself in his seat, "for being a level two 'patient' in a Maximum Security 'Hospital,' I know just about everything that goes on here. Obviously the good Doctor hasn't warned the staff about whispering amongst themselves, since a lot of us 'patients' are lip-readers," he said. "Take Lyle Bolton for example. I know who his wife is, and I know he has at least two other 'female friends' off to the side." He leaned forward, his gaze lowering. "I also know he has plans beyond caring for us 'patients.'"

I couldn't help it - I was curious. I didn't like Bolton, and to see him canned and a more worthy guard in his position was a small dream of mine.

"What have you heard about Officer Bolton?" I asked in a nonchalant tone.

"Ah, ta-ta... I'll tell you something if you tell _me_ something. How's that?" His Cheshire smile widened.

Under the right light, he was sort of beautiful. In a psychotic, scary way.

"And what would you like to know?"

"About your little bunny." I huffed and crossed my arms.

"What do you want to know about him?"

"Oh, just the things he does that troubles you." I heard his shackles moving, making it seem like he was trying to spread his legs more.

"Why would you want to know that?"

His hands landed on the table with a small _bang_.

"You interest me, Lainey," he said in a low voice, his cold eyes fixated on mine.

"Please refer to me as Dr. Morgan," I said sternly. "This needs to remain professional."

"Nothing remains that professional with me, Doc." He grinned, his hands remaining flat on the table. "I get to people. I'll eventually get to you."

He squinted his eyes a little as he continued to fix his glaze on me. "In fact, I think I might already be starting to get to you."

"I don't think so," I said, although deep down, there was a little truth to his words.

I was thinking about him more than any other patient I'd treated.

"If you say so, _Docto_r Morgan." He let out his breathy laugh, then studied me for a bit. "So what happened between you and your_ squeeze_? A lover's quarrel?"

"We had some words the other day, but that is none of your business -"

"- Mister J," he finished, grinning.

"_Patient 4479_," I finished in an irritated voice.

"_Ooh_," he started in an amused tone. "So... What was the fight about? Not spending enough time with his beloved? Not getting you enough pretty things?"

I glared at him. "I don't _need_ nor _demand_ 'pretty' things, thanks."

"Then maybe he's spending more time with someone else."

I remained silent. I could hear his hums, the shackles around his ankles rattle as he shifted in his chair again.

"Long days at work?"

"No," I said quietly, refusing to look at him; all I could feel was a hole burning in my guts.

"Jealousy is _such_ a cruel game, isn't it, puddin'?" He snickered.

"Shut up," I replied, suddenly feeling a sense of panic because of how unprofessional that was.

His breathy laugh rang in my ears. "Come on, Doc. What's lover-boy doing while you two are apart?"

Things were quiet for a few moments as I collected my thoughts (or lack thereof). I put down my pen and stared him in the eye.

"He plays in a band, and he often puts practices and gigs ahead of me. The lead singer is a woman, and she's beautiful. And she can sing really well."

"_Mmm_..." he said with amusement. "So you think your precious is fucking the singer. Tell me, what is his name?"

"Derek," I said immediately, feeling regret wash over me. "We barely see each other."

"And as I already stated, he's not giving you what you want_ or_ need._ I_ can give you those things," he said, his voice growing lower, sending a shiver up my spine. "As I offered before, come see me sometime. Perhaps we could work something out."

Lyle banged on the door as soon as Joker finished talking, then buzzed himself inside.

"Time's up, clown. Back to your cell."

"Ah, but we were just getting somewhere," he said as he stared at me, eyes almost showing some light. Joker's tongue flicked out and grazed his lips as he stared at me as if I were his prey.

"Until next time, _Doctor_ Morgan," he said as he was released from his shackles and handcuffed by Lyle.

"Yes, see you later," I said in a professional tone. 

After they left, my head was swimming with some of the worst thoughts I'd had to date.

_Why am I actually considering cheating on Derek? I have no proof of him having an affair... But he's a selfish lover - hell, if you can call him that. He's already admitted to not loving me._

_Stop it, Elaine. Joker is a psychopath. He'll manipulate you and you'll be out of a job._

I banged my head on the table and let out a deep, sorrowful sigh.


	5. Secrets Revealed

A couple weeks passed since that interview with Joker. Derek and I saw each other once in that amount of time; he was playing with his band ('_The Mystiques_') at a club in downtown Gotham. He visited with me briefly while he was on one of his breaks, but made it a point to interrupt talking to me to give the lead singer, Kaylee, his attention (which only made me feel more furious).

My jealousy was one of my worst traits, and it was something I never possessed until Derek joined _The Mystiques_ and Kaylee Jones entered the picture. She was everything I wanted to be: flowing, beautiful brown hair; slender with glowing skin, and striking green eyes. Not to mention a singing voice that deserved a contract with a record company...

At the end of the night, I saw Derek and Kaylee share a lingering hug, followed by her giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. I felt my blood boil when I saw him smiling at her with adoration. As far as I knew, neither of them were aware that I was standing in eye sight.

During those couple weeks, I saw Joker a couple more times. I found myself thinking about him constantly - what was he doing at the moment? What did he do to pass time? Did he attempt to charm other women? Probably so.

The worst part of my thoughts was me feeling _jealous_ at the thought of Joker flirting with_ other_ women at the asylum - offering them visits to his cell, complimenting them...

_Stop! He's killed who knows how many people, he wears__** clown**__ makeup, and he's a known liar. He's your patient! Stop it! _

But I couldn't. As I kept getting to know him (or whatever fa**ç**ade he was putting on), I was feeling more attracted to him. Security was getting looser with him, and he was suspiciously staying on good behavior. He knew about my relationship with Derek, and started to refer to him as "the swine" - he told me about violent dreams he had about the man he never saw, and went into grave detail. It was unnerving, to say the least. 

Joker and I met for our seventh therapy session on a rainy Thursday afternoon. I wasn't scheduled to see him until that following Tuesday, but a couple of the guards said he was in distress, so I booked an appointment with him.

"Anyone ever tell you that you look _stunning_ in that shade of red?" he asked as he eyed my wine-colored sweater.

"No," I replied as I switched my gaze down to his paperwork.

The folder was getting thicker, and I wondered how much of it was the truth.

"Had a run-in with ol' Croc yesterday. He seemed unnaturally full," he said in his gleeful voice.

"Probably because he ate Officer Borland," I said dully, not even caring since I couldn't stand him anyway.

Joker snickered and laughed quietly with excitement.

"Some of the guards said you have been in distress the last couple of days. Would you like to talk about that?" I kept my eyes on his chart, not wanting to look into the face that was growing more attractive to me.

"Just missing my favorite Doc," he said with amusement. "You didn't elaborate much about your night out with the swine."

I paused from taking notes and stared at the mostly blank paper.

"How did you know about that?"

I felt him lean forward. "I know people, Lainey. I have connections outside of here."

I almost dared to look up at him, but I restrained myself. Once I would look, I knew I wouldn't stop.

"Stalking me is illegal, you know," I said coolly, pretending to write a note in his chart.

I heard him lick his lips.

"Do I really look like a guy who cares about the law?"

I didn't respond - hell, I didn't even look up at him. I ignored him and continued to flip through his paperwork.

There was silence for a several moments before he said, "Look at me."

My eyes remained on his chart.

"I said, _look at me_!" his voice raised, causing me to jump.

Our eyes met, and I felt my insides turn to jello.

"I heard your darling lover has had his eyes on a certain singer," he said tauntingly. "What a fool he is."

"There's no proof of that," I said quietly, trying to fight back any negative emotions.

"Ah, but there is. You just don't see it yet." He adjusted himself in his seat. " See, I know people out there - they keep an eye on how things are while I'm enjoying my stay here."

"I'm sure you do," I said as I restrained myself from rolling my eyes.

"The swine spends a little more time with the singer than you think."

_He's taunting you. He's trying to break you. Don't let him do it._

Feeling my temper begin to flare (and all of my pent-up jealousy and paranoia), my hands landed on the table with a loud _thunk_.

"If the point in this session is to make me crack for your own amusement, then I think we've covered enough for today," I said, holding back from screaming at him.

There was no amusement in his eyes.

"There will be a time when the truth will come out, Lainey," he said as he relaxed in his seat. "And my offer will always stand - my cell is open for you."

"I'm sure it is for the other women you come in contact with," I muttered bitterly.

There was that quiet hyena laugh again.

"A sense of humor. I like that." He licked his lips, then paused for a while. "Do you love him?"

"That's an inappropriate question," I said after a few moments.

"That's a lot of hesitation for a 'yes' or 'no' question," he said as he kept his dark eyes fixed on me.

"I think we've had enough for today," I said as I stood up and collected his charts. "I will see you on Tuesday."

I buzzed for Lyle to let me out of the room, not bothering to look back at Joker. I felt conflicted - things were going sour very quickly with Derek, and he was seeming more detached. I was fighting jealousy and paranoia, and I hated it. What I hated the most was my attraction to the Joker, and how the bastard probably knew it. I wanted out of my own skin so I could be a normal person who had a healthy relationship and didn't work in an insane asylum.

A couple of days later, I had a new email from an unknown email address. After running a couple virus and spam checks to make sure it was safe, I opened the email. There were a few attached photos, which struck me as odd. I felt my stomach sink as I downloaded them, fearing the worst.

The first photo was of Derek with Kaylee and his band members from the previous night. They were out to dinner (which he didn't tell me they were doing), and he was sitting rather close to Kaylee. The second photo was of them smiling at each other, and the third... Them outside of the restaurant, embracing. I felt furious - I knew it was ridiculous, and it was more than likely my paranoia, but why wouldn't he tell his _girlfriend_ he was going out with his band for dinner, instead of lying to me about that night by saying he wasn't feeling well? In fact, why sit so close and be so touchy with another woman? That wasn't part of our agreement when we started our relationship. But then again, I was probably paranoid...

As soon as I finished saving the photos (for blackmail, of course), another email arrived from the same address.

_Thought you might like to see this. _

_- L_

_Who is this 'L' person?_ I thought as I downloaded the photo.

The picture was of Derek _kissing_ Kaylee on the mouth. It was a peck on the lips, sure, but that was definitely _not_ okay.

_"See, I know people out there - they keep an eye on how things are while I'm enjoying my stay here,"_ Joker's voice echoed in my head.

Son of a bitch.

I sat there for several moments, feeling my temper boiling. I thought about replying to this mysterious 'L' person, but decided against it for the time being. No, I had one thing on my mind - _Joker_.

I was at Arkham within half an hour. Jonathan, one of the newer security guards (to replace Borland, who was unfortunate enough to be Croc's lunch), granted me access to the Maximum Security holding cells. Normally therapists didn't go back to the cells (unless the patients were injured, or had some sort of condition that left them in their cells, like Poison Ivy for example), and apparently Jonathan didn't remember that from what I was sure his half-assed training by Lyle Bolton himself.

Jonathan swiped his badge and entered a code to let me through the heavy privacy door to Joker's cell.

"You sure you don't want me to accompany you, Doc? I know you said this is Dr. Arkham's orders, but still..."

Oh, yeah... I might have told a little white lie.

"I'm sure. Thank you, Jonathan." I forced a smile at him and he returned it with a toothy grin.

As soon as he walked out of sight, I entered Joker's cell and heard the security door shut behind me with a loud _bang!_

Joker was sitting on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms behind his head.

"Back for another check so soon, ape?" he said nonchalantly. Feeling bold, and basically not really caring that much about my own personal safety, I approached his bed and sat down on it.

He stared at me with a faint look of surprise.

"Ahh..." he began as he raised himself up on his elbows. "I see you've decided to take me up on my offer after all."

"Who is L, and how did they get my email? How did they even know about Derek and where he was?" I demanded.

He grinned.

"Just an old buddy of mine. He's one of my more trust-worthy men. He's very good at finding people for me."

I shuddered at the thought of what this L character to could to me.

"Before you panic, I've ordered him not to harm you," he said dully. "Nobody touches what's _mine_."

"I'm not yours," I said as he raised himself up so his face was inches from mine.

"Is this another one of my delusions, Doc?" he asked as his lips grew closer to mine.

"I would say so," I said as my eyes lowered to his scarred, red lips.

The temptation was strong. He told me so many horrible things, and his face was disfigured and terrifying. The only thing I could chalk up my attraction to him was from my lack of attention from my own boyfriend.

"Nobody would know," he said in a low voice as his lips lingered near mine. "It would be _our_ little secret."

"And why would I trust you?" I whispered, feeling my nerves in overdrive.

"You've trusted me to not put my hands around your neck. I'd say that's quite a step."

"There's a difference between trusting you to not murder me and trusting you to keep something highly inappropriate, and possibly _illegal_, secret."

He licked his lips; his mouth was so close I felt his tongue briefly graze my lips.

"Do you feel that?" he asked quietly. "Do you feel the _tension_? The desire? The _anger_?"

"Yes," I responded without thinking.

He grabbed the sides of my face and pushed me down onto his bed, causing me to let out a small whimper.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you," he said as he kept his mouth close to mine. "When I want something, I_ take_ it. By force, if necessary."

Before I could respond, he added, "And I can see I won't need to force you."

He pressed his lips to mine, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my body. I fantasized about kissing him, and doing sexual things with him that Derek refused to do with me. His jagged scars added an interesting texture to the kiss, and it really wasn't as appalling as I thought it might have been.

I kissed him back, and noticed a large difference in taste between him and Derek - while Joker had poor oral hygiene, going by his yellow teeth (though the nurses had been enforcing regular brushing habits on him since his arrival), his breath tasted much better than Derek's - Joker tasted like apples and something sweet. Derek's breath was usually stale from his cigarettes.

He pulled back and ran the tip of his tongue along my lips, then brought my bottom lip into his mouth; he sucked on it hard enough to draw a little blood. It stung, yet it made my nether regions ache.

That was when I pulled back and pushed him off of me. Surprisingly, he didn't lose his temper and force himself on me. I stared at him, feeling the strong urge to fuck him right there, but knew I needed to keep control. I _cheated_ on Derek, when there was probably nothing between him and Kaylee. What was I even _thinking_?

"I need to go," I said as I got off of his bed.

"Mmm... and here I was starting to get my hopes up to see what that mouth of yours can _really_ do," he said in a sultry voice. "I know _mine_ would have you begging."

I wanted to beat my head into the wall out of frustration.

"I will see you Tuesday," I said as I opened the bars of his cell, stepping into the section with the security door.

Joker was at the bars almost immediately, and had his hand on my arm.

"Come back and see me again, toots," he said with a wink, "after you've had a little time to think."

I didn't reply; instead, I hurried out of his cell and rushed back home, feeling overwhelmed by anxiety and guilt.


	6. A New Brand of Therapy

_What have you done, Elaine? What even is this situation you're in?_

I held my head in my hands as I stared at the clock on the wall - 2AM. It was Tuesday, the day I was supposed to see Joker. Derek and I spoke a little over the past couple of days, both of us contributing very little to any conversation. I felt like he was caring less (which I'd been feeling, and _fearing_, for months), and I felt torn. Part of me was angry and disgusted with him for what he did, part of me was angry and disgusted with myself for what _I_ did.

What a mess.

I never replied to L, whoever he was. There were no other emails from him, but I did make it a point to check my email a little more often after I received those photos...

_Your best bet is to break things off with Derek and quit Arkham. Leave Gotham and start over somewhere else._

But there was the demented part of me that wanted to stick around. There was never a dull moment in Gotham, and I couldn't just abandon my patients. Ivy needed me, since she was responding so well to treatments. My numerous Level One patients were making progress. And Joker...

I managed to get a few hours of sleep before my alarm went off. I left early because of the snow from the previous night, and because the citizens of Gotham act like they've never driven a fucking car before... A lot of the staff at work were decorating the hallways and nurses' stations with wreaths, lights, and tinsel. I felt a mixture of rotting and anxiety in the pit of my stomach at the thought of Christmas approaching and how things were going to be different compared to the previous year.

Derek texted me shortly after I arrived at work, and I told him I'd talk to him after my shift was over. He probably didn't care, anyway - maybe he was relieved. He might have started a routine with Kaylee, for all I knew.

I approached the interview room around two, only to be stopped by Nicole.

"There you are!" she said as she caught me by the arm. "Here - it'll give you access to Joker's cell. There was a big ordeal last night, and Dr. Arkham gave the okay for you to treat Joker in his cell."

I stared at her with a blank expression.

"Um... Why?"

"He shot one of the guards in the foot and said he'd do worse if he has to keep attending his sessions in the therapy center." She smirked a little. "It was Officer Morrison, so that's okay. He's been sexually harassing me for months now."

I bit back a laugh.

"Morrison tried to get me to come out to the North Wing to 'have a smoke with him' one night. He's a creep."

"I noticed Joker's been getting the creeps," she said thoughtfully. "He's a piece of shit, but at least he's giving what other pieces of shit deserve."

_At least I'm not the only one who thinks that..._

"I noticed that, too." I checked my watch, noting that I was already two minutes late. "I'd better run. Want to get the appointment over with."

_Okay, that was a lie._

She gave me a sympathetic look.

"Good luck with him, Elaine. He wasn't in a very good mood this morning when there was a cell block check."

"Thanks, Nicole."

I scanned my badge and entered the code to get past the privacy door to Joker's cell. I unlocked his cell and stepped in, jumping a little as the doors slammed shut behind me.

"Ahh... You're late," Joker said from a chair that was leaned against the wall. He was shackled to the chair and was in a straightjacket again.

"I believe we might have talked about harming other patients," I said as I sat down in a chair that was placed a few feet from him.

"It got you back into my cell, didn't it?" His grin widened as he let his arms out of their restraints. "Y'know, for a hospital, they sure make it a point to treat you like a prisoner instead of a patient."

I stared at him dully; he kept his eyes locked on me.

"Are my jokes really that bad, Doc?"

"Yes," I said as I opened his chart.

"So... Want to pick up where we left off? Y'know... I bet you'd look _great_ sitting here on my lap. Give me a proper treatment..." He licked his lips.

_He really needs to stop that. __** I**__ really need to stop thinking about him like this..._

"What we did a few days ago was just... It was out of frustration and it was incredibly inappropriate. It will not happen again, I can assure you."

"Right... Like I said, Lainey - I get to people. You _want_ to be on my lap right now, but you're scared. Why hold yourself back? I can give you want you need, what you want - what you _deserve_," his voice deepened at the end, sending a shiver up my spine.

"Have you been having any negative side effects from your medication?" I asked, trying my best to ignore my feelings of arousal.

"Mmm... No. Haven't felt a thing!" He shifted in his seat, leaning back as much as he can. "On second thought, I have been experiencing a little pain."

I looked up from his chart.

"Pain? What kind of pain?"

"Well, it's in my mouth, Doc. I think I should really be examined to make sure I don't have any sort of bizarre side effects." I stared at him dully, making him grin.

_Fuck, why do you have to look so good when you're tied up like that?_

"How about I put myself back in my restraints, hmmm? Would you come to me then?" He lowered his gaze.

I said nothing. He looked annoyed.

"Y'know, I figured you finding out the truth about the swine would help you along here."

"We're working through it," I lied.

"No, you're not," he said in an angry, quickened tone. "I'm willing to bet that you two have barely spoken. What's there to say during a relationship that's falling apart?"

I remained silent, feeling my blood boil. The bastard _was_ getting to me, and I already felt tense that day anyway. Lack of sleep and lack of sexual gratification while finding out your boyfriend was cheating on you really wasn't the greatest mix in the world.

"Have I touched a nerve, Doc?" He laughed, throwing his head back in the process.

"No, you have not," I said through gritted teeth.

Then things were suddenly silent. There was a long pause, and things felt awkward. I really didn't know what to say, and to be honest, I didn't know what to _think_ with Joker staring at me with those piercing eyes.

"I've been doing some thinking about how we could progress with your treatment," I said as I made a note for Dr. Arkham.

"Me too. Hopefully we're on the same page here," he said as he leaned forward a bit in his seat. "You, naked, and on top of me would speed things up _marvelously_."

I ignored him and continued, "I think art therapy could help you. I've made a note for Dr. Arkham to have some supplies brought in for you. Painting would be a good start."

_"Painting_?" He squinted his eyes at me. "And what do you supposed I'd paint, Doc? A vase of flowers, a bowl of fruit... a self portrait?"

"Whatever you want. The canvas is your gateway to a world you create. I think it could help with any pent-up rage, any anxiety, and sorrow you feel."

He laughed.

"Why would I feel any of that? Besides the rage - have you _seen_ some of the bozos who work here? Here I thought the ape was bad..."

"Why don't you tell me a little more about that?" I felt a little hopeful as I prepared to copy any of his statements.

He licked his lips, his body language shifting to a relaxed state. I sometimes got the feeling that he wanted me to pry for information, so maybe there was a reason for him to lose his temper.

"You've seen how rough they are with me."

"Well, you did cut off one guard's finger, and shoot another in the foot."

"They had it coming," came that quickened, angry tone. "You think I just waltzed in here and _started_ causing chaos? No, no... no. That would be offending my host and just plain _rude_." He let out an insane-sounding "hoo-hoo" sound, which was hard to call a giggle.

_What do I even __**see**__ in this guy? He's nuttier than a fruit cake. _

_Come on... This city worships a man who dresses up like a bat and fights criminals at night. This really isn't that nuts._

"Those_ fleas_ put their grubby hands on me. The guy I shot last night? He performed a very rough cavity search on me before our last session. I'm sure he was going to do it again today."

"Why don't you tell me or another staff member when these things happen?" I asked with sympathy.

_He could be lying. _

_Maybe he isn't!_

He shrugged, breaking the straightjacket pose to stretch his arms above his head.

"Because... who would believe a guy like me?" He licked his lips as he rested his arms behind his head.

"Well... I believe you," I said hesitantly.

He smirked. "I knew we'd start to build a trusting relationship."

_Or something._

Three days passed without any more trouble from Joker. It was Friday, and my shift ended around five, and I was home by quarter to six. Maxwell and I ate our dinner in silence, and Derek texted afterwards to ask about my day. Our conversation flowed better, but I still felt the burning jealousy and anxiety over the photographs.

My jaw nearly hit the floor when he brought up the topic of marriage. The conversation was short, but (as far as I could tell) he insinuated that it was a possibility in the future. It was very confusing and random - here's a man I'd been with for several years, who _told_ me he didn't love me, and here he was talking about _marriage_. The universe must have been scrambled that day.

I was asleep by eleven, and was woken a little after midnight by a phone call from Officer Jacob Bryant.

"Dr. Morgan, I'm terribly sorry to call at this hour, but you need to come in," he said, voice full of urgency.

"What's the matter?" I asked as I wiped the sleep from my eyes, already guessing who was behind it.

"The janitor was doing his nightly rounds when he found a body in your office. It was Dr. Paul Murray."

My stomach dropped as I sat up in bed.

"H... How? Do they know who did it?"

_You already know. _

"He was stabbed in the neck with a pencil, which hit his carotid artery. There was a red smile painted across his lips, and there's a very large red bow on top of him. What appears to be a Christmas card was left next to his body."

"Does it say who it's from?" I swung my legs over the bed, and got up to get ready to leave for the asylum.

"Patient _4479_."


	7. Off the Case

I arrived at Arkham in record time, and reported into the patient interview room within minutes of getting there. I felt a little shaky, but knew I needed to keep my composure. If you're a woman working in one of these places, you had to have a good pokerface.

"...really, coppers, he was quite a pain in _my_ neck," I heard Joker say as I entered the room.

His eyes snapped towards me and his smile widened. "Ahh... There you are."

He looked at the two guards in the room and shooed them with his cuffed hands.

"You two can run along and frisk other 'patients.' We'll be fine."

Of course, Lyle Bolton was there to make things more than fun. He stared at me with his large arms crossed over his chest.

"The clown killed one of our best god damn doctors, Morgan!" he said in a raised voice. "You said your treatments were working!"

"They have been," I replied in a calm tone. "And if you could speak in a calm voice in front of my patient, it would be appreciated. Being riled up does not help his situation."

"_His_ situation?! What about _Dr. Murray's_ situation? In case you forgot, Morgan, the man is _dead_ because of this _freak_."

"I'm not a freak..." Joker mumbled. "No, I'm not. _ No_, I'm _not_."

"Officers, if you two could please leave the room so I could speak to my patient in private, it would be appreciated."

Lyle and an officer whose face I didn't recognize stepped out of the room, Lyle huffing and puffing the whole time. After the door closed, I took a seat across the table from Joker.

"So?" he said after a few moments.

"So what?" I asked dully.

"Did you like my gift?" he asked eagerly.

"No," I responded. "You can't kill innocent people like that. We've been over this - don't you remember?"

"Oh, I remember lots of things we've been over." He leaned forward, his eyebrow cocking. "I remember some _very _interesting sessions we've had over this last month."

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes.

"Y'know, this was part of the art therapy you mentioned. Too bad you didn't look at my card. It was a portrait of your beloved with a machete in his neck."

"This doesn't somehow reflect Dr. Murray's death, does it?"

"Completely coincidental." He leaned back in his chair, his curtain of brownish-green hair flopping into his eyes. "Hear anything more from my pal L? He's been keeping a watch on your squeeze."

"No, I have not. Would you please tell me why you killed Dr. Murray?"

"That's a hard story to get into, Doc. See, I like it here for the most part - food's okay, roof over my head... _lovely_ company," he said, his hands motioning towards me. "But some of these goons just _won't_ leave me alone. They _deserve_ what they get."

"How did Dr. Murray deserve to die? Married for fifteen years, has three children under the age of twelve. He was a good man."

"You look, but you don't _see_!" he said in a louder volume than his previous sentences, making me jump. "Dr. Murray has been _talking_ about you... Trying to make an attempt to take over for you. They want to separate us - that can't happen."

"I don't want us to be separated either, and I doubt that will happen. Listen, you can't attack and kill others. It's only going to keep setting us back with your treatment," I said gently.

He stared at me with hooded eyes.

"He's said _vulgar_ things about you, Lainey. He's been having an affair with one of the nurses. I _hear_ things. I know what's going on around here."

_That's not too surprising. Murray has always been a bit of a weasel. _

_Ahh, how we have to play the empathy game so much... It gets __**so**__ tiring._

Before I could reply, Lyle buzzed himself in.

"A word, Dr. Morgan," he said in his gruff tone.

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes and exited the room with him.

"You're off his case," he said as soon as the door shut.

I felt my stomach drop.

_No. No, no, no... I can't be. Yeah, he's a fucking nutball, but he's the highlight of my week._

"Why?" I asked, trying to show very little concern.

"Because shit like _this_ keeps happening, Morgan!" he borderline yelled. "I just spoke to Dr. Arkham. Dr. Strange will take over from here."

"Dr. _Strange_? Yeah, that's going to go over really well. I've had patients who've been with him in the past and they all said he was awful. _Hypnosis_? Do they _really_ think that's going to work on my patient?"

"He's not your patient any more. I'm going to take him back to his cell, and I'm going to let you tell him you've been taken off his case, and let _you_ deal with the repercussions of your poor therapy methods. Go there now while I haul the clown back to his cage." He buzzed himself back into the room while I stood there, ready to foam at the mouth.

_As much as I like Ivy, Joker is my favorite patient. I don't understand why, and it makes me feel so frustrated. I feel so angry, and I shouldn't. Putting aside the publicity for taking on such a high-profile criminal and a shot at a very nice pay raise, I should be relieved to be off his case._

I walked into Joker's cell, which was left unguarded (which was against protocol; good job, Lyle) and sat down in the chair near his bed. He was sitting on the end of his bed, watching me with those captivating, chocolatey orbs.

"I'm being taken off your case," I said with the least amount of emotion I could muster. "You're being reassigned to Dr. Strange."

"_Strange_?" he replied in disbelief. "Yeah, and I'm Professor Giggles."

I stared at him dully.

"They can't separate us," he said, standing up suddenly. "No... _No_!"

He punched the wall a few times, his face twisted in rage.

_Remain calm..._

"I don't want us to be separated, either. I told you that already. This is beyond my control - this is Dr. Arkham's doing, and maybe a little on Bolton's part. I'm sorry," I said as I stood up. "Maybe one day we'll be able to work together aga-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he had my back to the wall, and had his body pressed against mine.

"You were supposed to tell me things. We were supposed to have something going here." His lips hovered over mine.

"...and I said we can't have anything going on because of Derek. That one time was the last time anything's going to happen," I said firmly.

He pressed his lips to mine, and clamped down on my arms to keep me from pushing him off. I fought mentally - it really was a struggle, trying to take the moral high ground and walk away when this was the man I desperately wanted for over a month (which really wasn't that long). I felt my womanhood burn for him; his mouth was dominating mine, and I could feel a growing bulge in his pants.

"See what you do to me?" he whispered as he moved his crotch against my stomach. "Do you _feel_ how badly I want you?"

He took hold of me and moved us to his bed; he sat down and pulled me down on his lap. I moaned quietly at the contact with his groin.

"I can't do this," I said quietly. "Derek-"

"- might be off screwing around with that bimbo from his band. He's not doing anything for you anyway. Let _me_ do those things for you - let _me_ be the one to give you pleasure. I can give you _everything_ you want," he whispered in my ear, then proceeded to suck on my ear lobe.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and breathed heavily against his hair (which smelled like some kind of floral shampoo). I felt myself growing wet and tight from the close contact, and felt my morals being thrown out the window.

_Fuck it._

He groaned as I got a steady rhythm going with grinding his crotch. His hands fell down to my hips and he held them as I rocked against him. I felt his tongue trailing down my neck, leaving goosebumps in its path. My hands slipped between us and I tugged at his zipper.

"Is it okay if I do this?"

He stared at me dully. "Do you really need to ask?"

I pulled the zipper down, and ran my hands down his clothed chest. The zipper went down a little further, stopping at the seam of his pants. He was commando, and his erection sprang out with no effort. Thick and circumcised, his dick was glorious and I felt a stronger urge for him to fill me.

"Like what you see, Doc?" he whispered as he took hold of my hand, placing it on his dick, which was moist from pre-cum.

"Stop talking," I said as I got off his lap and went down on my knees. "If this is the last time we're together, let's make it worth our while."

He leaned back on his elbows and grinned as he watched me fondle his balls while rubbing the head of his cock against my lips. I slid it in about an inch and sucked, earning an approving groan from him, along with his hand going to the back of my head.

_You hate this when it's with Derek. Are you so fixed in your routine that you feel like this is the only thing you can do with him? He said he's willing to do what I want... But this is actually a bit enjoyable. Why can't I just do things without having so much internal conflict?_

He pushed my head down in a steady rhythm; I gazed up at him, feeling my jaw growing tired from pressure. He was beautiful in that moment - the dimly lit room cast a haunting shadow over his scarred face; his eyes were hooded, and his mouth was partially open. Moments later, our eyes met, and I felt his dick twitch in my mouth.

He kept his eyes locked on mine as I sucked him; his hand moved faster against my head, forcing his dick further into my mouth and making me have to stay conscious of my gag reflex. He panted, sweat trickling down the side of his face; I saw the veins bulging from his arms as his balls tightened against my fingers. Within seconds, I felt him release his seed into my mouth. Semi-sweet and thick, I swallowed it immediately.

He brushed my hair back, which was strange and out of character for him, before he got a tight hold on my wavy locks, making me whimper. He pulled me up to his mouth and kissed me slowly, which was just adding fuel to the fire in my loins in that moment. I was ready for him, and he was already spent; I didn't expect anything from him, but knew I at least gained fantasy material.

That was when I nearly jumped from surprise - _his_ hand was going down _my_ pants, a completely foreign concept for me. He moved his long, dextrous fingers between my wet lips, making me squirm and (quietly) moan against his mouth.

"That is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard," he whispered in my ear in an amused tone. "Where do you want to take it from here?"

"I don't care - just please _don't_ stop doing that..." I spread my legs farther apart for him, feeling that pleasant burning sensation in my stomach building as he worked his fingers.

He undid a few buttons on my shirt and pulled it open, then had my bra unhooked (front clasp) within seconds. He licked his lips as he momentarily stared at my bare tits before he took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. _Hard._

I felt ready to come undone - his palm was working my clit, and my nipples were rock hard. His finger went in all the way, and his pace was faster; I rocked my hips against his hand, and panted as I rested my face against the side of his head.

"_Mmm_... Come on, baby - _come for me_," he whispered, the only other sound in the room was his fingers moving in my wet folds.

"I'm so close," I whispered. "Oh, god..."

My fingers tangled in his hair while I gripped his shoulder.

"Come. Now!" he hissed, his hand getting rougher, which sent me into complete euphoria.

That's when I _felt_ fireworks - that jolt of imaginary electricity. I writhed against him, and tried to stay as quiet as possible. I gasped for air and panted as my eyes widened, keeping my face against his partially out of embarrassment for how I was acting.

I heard him chuckling quietly, which slowly worked its way into a brief laugh. He rubbed my thighs lazily as I dressed myself properly.

"Any chance you can still swing by here even if I'm not your patient any more?"

I looked down at him and sighed, feeling a dead weight in my chest again.

"I don't know. I won't have access to your cell now, and there won't be an excuse to come in here." He frowned.

"So this really might be the last time we're together."

I did something very bold that could have easily become a nightmare - I rested my hand on his painted cheek, tenderly rubbing my thumb against it, smearing some of his makeup. He didn't flinch, and didn't really respond emotionally. He just watched me.

"I guess so," I said sadly, continuing to stroke his cheek.

"We'll see about that."

_Oh, Elaine. Why do you have to get yourself into the worst situations possible?_


	8. The Proposal

Three days passed since Joker and I... Since we... There really was no easy way for me to word it, even in the privacy of my own thoughts. I felt some guilt for cheating on Derek - hell, I did even worse behind his back than he did behind mine! There was still part of me that wouldn't change what I figured would be my final encounter with Joker, even if that did make me a horrible person for admitting it to myself.

Rumors were flying all over the hospital by day five. I heard faint whispers from some of the guards about Joker and Dr. Strange - nothing that I could really make out. There was one person I knew I could count on for details, and that was Officer Mark Yale. He was the go-to for gossip in the hospital.

"Officer Yale!" I called as I approached him in the staff breakroom.

He turned and smiled, exposing his crooked teeth.

"Hello, Dr. Morgan. Long time, no see."

I smiled politely. "How are things going on your end?"

_Don't want to look suspicious. Just get to the details about Joker, Yale._

He looked behind me, and quickly scanned the premise before his gleeful eyes fell on me.

"There is so much going down in this hospital, I don't even know what to talk about first."

_Bingo. I knew I could count on you, you big blabbermouth!_

I pretended to be taken aback as I leaned against the soda vending machine.

"What's going on? I'm not seeing too much action these days."

_Figuratively and literally._

"Okay, so the Calendar Man was just brought in the other day and he's been reciting this... nursery rhyme? I'm not sure what you'd call it, but it's weird. He seems to know everyone's birthdays, and it's just super creepy. Y ou ever see him before?" He grinned as if this information was about to give him the winning lottery ticket.

"No, I haven't. I-" I was cut off by Mark's excited whispering.

"There's also what happened with Joker and Dr. Strange a couple days ago."

_Bingo!_

"Oh? What happened?"

"You're going to love this," he began, taking a seat at the long table a few feet away from me.

"Dr. Strange is all about hypnotherapy, right? Well, he tried to hypnotize the Joker. Joker made a complete dick out of Strange and tricked him into thinking he was actually hypnotized, implied that he was porking his wife - no offense - _and_ laughed right in his face! There's even _video_ of it!"

Everything seemed to slow down as my mind processed the information. That was definitely Joker, but there was no way he would have hooked up with Mrs. Strange. He was manipulative and knew how to work people - of course he wanted to push Strange's buttons.

_Why am I even paranoid? Why would I even __**care**__?_

"Here's the real kicker - Strange lost it and started pounding Joker." Mark laughed, sounding like Seth Rogen with his head stuck in a drain pipe. "Now Joker has to sign some legal papers stating he won't sue the hospital or anyone for what happened. Strange is temporarily suspended, and now Joker has a new therapist. Dr. Young, I think."

_Does he spend any time working as a guard, or is he just listening to all gossip and talking to the patients?_

Before I could say anything, he asked, "Hey, you used to be Joker's therapist at one time, right?"

"Yes, that's correct," I said coolly.

"Man, you really dodged a bullet there. " His grinned extended, threatening to warp his face into a twisted, Cheshire cat.

"I sure did..." I said quietly, feeling the sickening burn of jealousy.

Several more days passed, and things were pretty quiet. I hadn't heard much about how things were going between Joker and Dr. Young, but I assumed they went well. Dr. Young was attractive - much better looking than myself. I knew I was alright in features, but she was definitely one of the best-looking women in the hospital, and there were countless patients who ended up with obsessions with her.

A couple of weeks passed since I found about about Joker and Strange. Derek and I were growing closer again, and he actually made an effort to come over (or have me at his place). Things felt fairly okay, but it was always hard to tell with him.

It was edging close to a month since I last saw Joker, and I missed him terribly. He'd become the best thing about my job, attraction to him aside. Having him out of my life made me cling on to the next available person - Derek. My mind felt scattered - my body felt like it was being controlled by an outer being, and I was left to sit in the backseat and watch as my life turned into a dreadfully boring routine that slowly meant nothing to me.

Christmas passed and the New Year rang in without a bang. I started to isolate myself more from my co-workers, and felt myself dipping into depression. The whole thing, I realized, was completely stupid - I missed being with a _sociopath_. A murderer! Why would I feel that way towards someone I hardly knew?

During the first week of January, Derek and I were spending an evening in at his place. He was unusually affectionate - kissing me, cuddling with me, holding my hands. It made me a little paranoid and uncomfortable, to be honest. I knew something was up, and my paranoia had me convinced it was going to be something awful.

"How are things at the loony bin?" Derek asked as he brushed my hair behind my shoulders.

I clenched my jaw out of frustration at his vulgar term, but chose to leave it alone.

"Fine. No new patients, and nothing bad happening. I think a lot of them like the holidays."

_Okay, that's definitely stretching it. Half of them wouldn't know if it was Christmas or the fourth of July from all the pills the nurses feed them._

"Mmm," was all he mumbled as he left a kiss on my cheek.

_Derek, what are you even doing?_

I sighed as I rested my hands on top of his; he was spooning me on his sofa, and while it was fairly relaxing, part of it felt a little wrong. Doing something like that with my own boyfriend felt _wrong_ - I really was far gone.

"Did you hear that the Batman is pretty much M.I.A.?" Derek asked after several moments of silence.

"Yeah, some of my co-workers mentioned that. Maybe he's just on vacation or something."

"Well, they're saying he killed Harvey Dent."

_I don't believe that for a second._

"Do you think he did it?" I rested my head against his chin, and stared down at the dark blue carpeting, noting that it was in desperate need of hoovering.

"I dunno. Maybe. It looks that way."

_You fool._

"Yeah, maybe. I haven't really paid much attention."

"What else is new?"

Derek chuckled as he put his arm around my waist. I forced a quiet laugh, feeling completely dead inside.

_He's being so nice - too nice, actually, and I don't even appreciate it. All I can think about is Joker - it's been a month. I should be over it by now. I made a couple mistakes, and things are heading in a brighter direction with Derek. I need to move on and try to have a normal relationship. _

_Even though Derek cheated as well... Just at a lesser extent. _

_I need to be admitted into Arkham._

"Something on your mind?" Derek asked. "You're unusually quiet tonight."

"No," I lied. "I'm sorry - I'm just a little tired. I've had to change treatment plans for a couple patients, and it's just had me a little stressed."

He mumbled again, not asking for more details (as usual). There was more silence of the awkward variety.

"What about you?" I asked quietly.

"Actually, yeah... There is something on my mind," he said as he shifted behind me.

"Want to talk about it?" I asked, trying my best to show some interest.

_Things between us will probably end, and I'll be completely alone and hung up over my psychopath ex-patient._

"Well, we've been together for a few years now, and things haven't really moved forward much..." he started.

_Great. Here it comes - he's going to dump me for Kaylee._

"...and I think it's time to change that."

_... What?_

I remained quiet, wondering if he was pranking me, even if he wasn't the pranking type. His hands moved behind me again, and I felt him reach into his pocket.

_Holy..._

Seconds later, there was a small, dark blue box held out in front of my eyes. He opened it with one hand, revealing a white-gold band with a simple diamond in the center.

"Elaine, I know it's been a bumpy ride for us... But I think we can start riding on a smoother road someday - maybe that 'someday' is soon." He paused, seeming to go over his poorly premeditated speech.

_I wonder how hard this is for him, since this is probably the most open he's ever been with me._

"So... Will you be my wife? Will you start a life with me?" he finished after what felt like centuries of silence.

"Yes."

My brain didn't click, pause, or even stutter - my answer came out so fast it bothered me. I agreed to marry a man who didn't even love me, and I could feel myself falling out of love with him (and at a rather frighteningly quick pace). I continued my blank stare at his carpet as I felt him slip the ring on my finger.

He turned my head towards his and gave me a long, gentle kiss. His stale breath lingered on my lips afterwards, and all I could feel was my heart aching and a hollow stomach.

_Stop. Forget about Joker. You're getting what you'd wanted for so long - a promise from Derek to have a life with him. An actual life! What are you even doing? _

_I don't even know what I'm doing. I need to get my head on straight and come back to planet Earth - this is good for me. Derek and I can have a life together, and I can move on from those two brief slip-ups with Joker. Maybe I can find a new job, even to my own dismay, and get some help for whatever is wrong with me. _

_Yeah. That therapy session would go well - "So. what brings you in here?" "Oh, y'know, I was in your situation once, but I screwed around with one of my own patients who happens to me a psychopathic murderer who blew part of Gotham half to hell. Isn't that common?"_

The rest of the evening Derek and I talked a little about who we were going to tell first, and where we should consider having the ceremony. We kissed and cuddled more, and he made a few jokes about how I'd have to give him weekly blow jobs after we were married (what a pig).

It was around midnight when I came back to my apartment. I turned my cell phone on and was greeted by a voicemail from Dr. Arkham. I felt my stomach drop when I read his name, immediately thinking of every worse possible scenario that could have happened.

_Does he know? Does that cheap piece of shit Lyle know and told him? Am I getting fired? Is Joker okay?_

I felt my hands shake a little as I played his message, holding on to my counter top as I stared ahead at my tan walls, prepared to hear the absolute worst.

_"Hi, Dr. Morgan - this is Dr. Arkham calling. I know it's your night off, but I really hope you get this message before morning. I would like to speak to you about Patient 4479. If you could please call me back tonight, I'd appreciate it, regardless of how late it is. Thank you." _

_Is this real?_

I dialed his number and felt my stomach tying itself into a tight knot.

"Dr. Arkham," he answered.

"Hello, Dr. Arkham. This is Dr. Morgan calling. I'm sorry for returning your call this late - my phone was shut off."

"That's okay, Doctor. I appreciate you getting back to me."

_You sound so nice, but I'm still mad at you._

"I know I ordered you off Patient 4479's case a month ago, but we've been having a lot of problems with him... I'm sure you heard about the incident with Dr. Strange -"

"Will he be returning to work soon?" I interrupted rudely.

"Not yet, I'm afraid. I can't disclose what he's up to at the moment."

_Ten bucks says anger management and AA._

"What about Patient 4479?" I asked nonchalantly, though I was dying from anticipation.

"He was put under Dr. Young's care, but I'm sad to say that she has just suffered a horrible accident today, and will no longer be part of our staff at the hospital."

_Yes!_

Even though I was grinning from ear-to-ear, I made sure my voice sounded as disappointed as possible.

"I'm really sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"There was a riot in the cafeteria today - she'd taken Patient 4479 there for lunch, and it was said that he kept demanding to stay in his cell. He has been very, very difficult to work with since I took you off his case. Nobody is completely certain about how anything lead up to this, but unfortunately one of our Level Two patients, who's been spotted speaking to Patient 4479 on several occasions, attacked Dr. Young during her lunch session and managed to remove part of her ear."

_Who is this patient and how can I give them a thank you card and the biggest box of candy money can buy?_

I feigned a horrified gasp.

"My god! That's awful!"

"Dr. Young quit as soon as she came out of shock, and claimed that she was considering handing in her resignation if she wasn't taken off Patient 4479's case. Oddly enough, you're the only one he's been fairly tame with, Dr. Morgan. Several members of the board and I met up this evening and we have agreed, as long as you and Patient 4479 are willing to consent, that you should take over the position as his doctor once again."

"Yes, if you think that is the best decision. 'm willing to try again."

"Excellent!" he said in a cheerful tone. "I will personally discuss this with him tomorrow morning, and I'll give you a call as soon as I'm finished speaking to him. Thank you very much, Dr. Morgan. You're a saint."

_Oh, if only you knew..._

"Oh, you know..." I said in a modest tone, "I just want to do what I can to help."

"Have a good night, Dr. Morgan."

"You too, Dr. Arkham. Thank you for the call." I hung up and laid my phone down on the counter, feeling my mind race fast enough so I couldn't keep my thoughts straight.

_First a proposal, now I might be back with Joker? Is this even real life, or am I dreaming all of this?_

I felt something rub against my legs, snapping me out of my thoughts immediately. Maxwell was rubbing his slender body around me, meowing for attention. I smiled as I picked him up and gave him a snuggle.

"You'll never believe what's happened today, Max..."


	9. Explanation For this Story (please read)

Hello, readers. For those of you who were expecting a story update, I regret to inform you this is not one - this is a little note to my viewers (whom I appreciate), and would like to speak primarily to the ones leaving negative reviews (and sending negative messages to me) about the main character, Elaine Morgan.

Firstly, I do genuinely appreciate people being passionate enough about this story to take time out of their day to actively express how they're feeling towards characters and events that are taking place. It means I'm getting somewhere as a writer (and have no fear, I have no intentions of going professional - we do not need my lack of writing skills in the publishing world) if I'm able to strike people this way.

Now, let's get to the main point - if anyone is familiar with the Batman comics, the Arkham video games series, the Animated Series, or "The Joker Blogs" (which is partially what this story is based on), you'll know that when the Joker goes to Arkham Asylum he is first treated by Dr. Harleen Quinzel (AKA Harley Quinn, who is easily manipulated, etc - you know the blonde chick who swoons over him and is the ultimate definition of a fan girl?). Assuming you all have that knowledge, you know this main character is like Harley Quinn in that regard.

Let's take the standard psychiatrist (or any sane person in the real world) - they would _**NEVER**_ fall under any sort of "spell" the Joker casts on them. A person of this rank would not be that psychologically weak to let a murderer who wears _clown_ makeup charm them and use them. Our dear and darling Elaine has to be mentally weak, and needs the little wall she put up in her head that makes her similar to the Joker crack easily, in order to make this story happen (if you read further, there's a point where she makes a comment about needing to play the empathy game in life - this is a play on accomplices like Karla Homolka, who is suspected to have lacked empathy in the rape and murders of young women done by her husband, Paul Bernardo - side note: to any Misha Collins fans reading, watch the movie "Karla" if you have a strong stomach).

Now, I could have bored you with her entire back story that led up to her mental crumbling (maybe mommy left and daddy drank too much, and she was one bad day away from being locked next to Joker in Arkham), but everyone is here for the Joker, and since I stuck this under the "romance" genre, some people are going to look for porn (That's just me? Whups), so let's skip the deep background analyzing and jump in.

I have debated re-writing this strictly through the Joker's point of view (once this story is complete - I am several chapters ahead of what's posted on here, and this story will be finished), and considered asking viewers if they would like to read this (Joker is an easy character for me to slip into - he's quite comfortable, and I mean that in the most non-prison movie type way) - at this point, I highly doubt this will happen, but it's still occasionally a fun idea to toy with.

**Anyway - too long, didn't read:** a realistic psychiatrist in Elaine's situation would not work, unless you all would like a 50 chapter story with painfully long chapters that would take me months to write in order to make her weakened mind make sense for us all (if this were real life, and let's assume we're not all attracted to the Joker because we have the image of Heath Ledger under that paint because this character is FAR from sexy, unless you're really into murderers/arsonists/hostage-takers, etc, then that's your own business... we'd want this person dead due to his crimes against humanity). In the real world, a doctor would immediately dump him off onto another therapist, or she would keep ignoring any inappropriate comments until she'd dump him off onto another therapist (or he'd just kill her). There's also capital punishment, and it's quite possible that there wouldn't be therapy sessions for the Joker, and instead he'd sit in a cell with the occasional court hearing until he was given lethal injection. Makes for a much less exciting story, I think (lethal injection is always fun, though - would anyone like to see a little of that? I can sneak that in here).

Also, between here and another location where I post this, I've noticed a lot of hate on Derek. That makes me happy because I hate him too. For everyone who's into this story and hates him, you're going to like how I play with him soon.

In the meantime, thank you all for taking time out of your day to read this, and leave your thoughts on this story. I hope you lovely people all have a nice day, and don't hate me too much for the long message to you all. This probably doesn't clear anything up or excuse this character and the way she is, but it gives a reason. I'd give you a story with her background, but let's be real here - we want Joker. Joker is much more fun to play anyway (winkwinknugenudge wtf that makes no sense - excuse me, I'm on new medication so it's messing with me. Wait. I'm always like this).

Personal note to self: I'm going to look back on this in the morning and question my judgment...

- permanentsmile


	10. Reunited

Two days later, I was granted access to Joker's cell again, given that it was part of his terms with having me back as his therapist (according to Dr. Arkham).

Honestly, how in the hell are they letting Joker have **this** much freedom? He's killed and maimed since he's been in here. I really don't see how that makes it okay for him to call any shots, but I shouldn't complain... I am getting what I wanted.

I scanned my badge at his cell, entered the security code, and heard the heavy door unlock. I stepped inside his cell and tried to keep a neutral face as I stared at him for the first time in over a month. He looked the same - hair still tinted with green, face still painted for some damned reason. Broad shoulders and muscle definition still filled out his orange jumpsuit. His eyes wandered over to me from his bed, and his permanent smile widened.

Part of me panicked a little when he got off his bed in a frenzy and was in front of me faster than I could blink. He had me against the wall with his hands next to my head; he stared down at me, that dark grin still plastered to his chalk-white face.

"Welcome back, Lainey," he said, his breath having the faint odor of minty toothpaste (the man's oral hygiene was as good as mine at this point, given that the nurses were almost forcing a toothbrush into his mouth daily). "No 'I've missed you, Mr. J'? Tsk, tsk... All the trouble I went through to get you back in my grasp, too..."

"I've heard you stirred up a little trouble with Dr. Strange," I said as I felt my hands gravitating towards his hips. "Want to talk about that?"

"You could just watch the video." There was a quiet, throaty chuckle. "Shame - he didn't want to hear my bear-hunting story."

"That's his loss." I rubbed and squeezed his hips, feeling a twinge of disappointment over the hospital's uniform code because a pair of plain trousers would have been much easier to get my hands into.

He looked down at my hands, and his grin fell quickly. He grabbed my left hand and held it up.

"What's this?" he asked with disgust as he tapped my ring with his thumb.

"Oh... About that..." I started, feeling nervous and regretful for wearing my ring (which was against hospital policy - that really was stupid on my end).

"You got married?" he asked in a disgusted voice. "I'm gone for a month, and you get married?"

"Engaged," I said quietly, avoiding eye contact with him.

He stepped back from me and kept my hand in his, examining it closely. He was probably debating biting my finger off. After a couple moments of silence, he dropped my hand and stared at me, his expression turning blank.

"So, when's the wedding?"

"We haven't set a date yet."

"Am I invited? I do love wedding cake," he said as he made his way back to his bed.

"Um... I think that might be against hospital policy," I said as I followed him.

"Why say 'yes'?" he asked in a bothered tone. "I thought my buddy was able to uncover some evidence that would turn you away from the swine."

"He did. I just... I'm not even sure why I said yes. I gave it no thought, and it just came right out of my mouth." We looked at each other for a few seconds before I released my long-awaited sigh. "I've missed you."

He suddenly grinned. "How could you not? I'm a likeable guy - charisma and all that."

"How did you get the other patient to bite Dr. Young's ear?"

"Oh, Xander? Just part of one of his old fantasies about her. He has a history of biting, so they usually keep that Hannibal Lector mask on him. Shame someone loosened the buckles on it for him that day..." he mumbled.

My eyes widened. "Yeah... wonder who'd do something like that..."

"Honest mistake made by the staff, I'm sure." He grinned. "You know how they tend to...slip."

I stared down at him, watching him put his hands behind his bed as he stretched his long legs out on his bed.

"So, is this the first official session with you back? Or is this just a social call?"

"Our first session together is tomorrow."

"Social call... I like that." He stared up at me, giving me a little nod. "So no official questions about what I've been up to since you were taken from me, then?"

"Well, they aren't entirely necessary. I'm supposed to be neutral towards all of my patients, you know."

"And how many of us are there, Lainey?" He sat up in his bed, his bare feet going over the side quickly. "Is it just me and your darling, foolish husband-to-be, or are there others? You know... I really don't like sharing my toys." He licked his lips. "No matter who was there first."

His dark eyes pierced through my very being in our stare-off. His words were bitterly thrown out - possessive, threatening.

"Just you and Derek," I said quietly. "Derek and I... we don't really do anything."

"Trying to make little ol' me jealous?" he asked darkly. "It's working. You might not like jealous me - I don't always play well with others, you know."

What were my intentions of coming in here early for again? This is against protocol, I didn't have anything prepared for coming in here. My body seemed to autopilot in here. Am I looking for sexual gratification? Just missing my favorite sociopath?

"Inflicting negative emotions are not my intention," I stated as I boldly took a seat next to him.

His mouth was at my ear, which brought back the image of Dr. Young having part of her ear torn off, and made me borderline paranoid about what Joker could possibly do.

He's been given numerous opportunities to hurt me, and he hasn't. Is he waiting? Is he planning something? He says he doesn't plan, but Rule #1 is that he lies...

"Who's to say the feeling is negative? Maybe I enjoy being jealous. Maybe it gives me a little rush - the need to keep my toys in a box so nobody else can touch them."

His voice was low in my ear, sending chills down my spine; he hand creeped up my thigh, making my legs instinctively spread for him.

"Are you suggesting something?" I kept my stare straight at the wall, feeling a little nervous (and excited) by the closeness.

"Mmm... what would give you that idea?"

I felt his teeth graze my ear, making goosebumps erupt over my skin.

"It almost sounds like you're insinuating kidnapping me."

He stopped playing with my ear and left out an airy laugh.

"Me? What makes you think I'd do something like that?"

I stared at him dully. "No offense, but you are known for holding people hostage."

"Oh, they were just hesitant participants. I get the feeling you'd come willingly." He grinned. "I'm only here as long as I feel like staying. When I get back out in the field, how about I pay you a little visit and we take a little...vacation out of Gotham, hm?"

"They would think you kidnapped me and would place a bounty on your head."

He stared at me dully, and I felt his fingers touch my chin.

"I've had the mob place a one million dollar bounty on my head before. You think the cops, some of whom are on my payroll, would scare me off? I've heard my friend has gone MIA, too."

"Batman? There haven't been any sightings lately."

"Taking the fall for Harvey Dent's death... Our beloved Harvey. 'I believe in Harvey Dent!'" He cackled to himself. "Gotham's 'white knight'..."

"Sometimes I get the feeling you really aren't faking madness," I said uncomfortably.

"Mmm... and how do you measure madness?" His hands stroked my jawline, and his mouth went back to work on my ear.

That question, though I should have really expected anything with him, made me stop and think. When I decided to finally answer with basic textbook psychology, he interrupted my prepared speech.

"I've spent many lonely nights in here. I could've really used your company." He licked his lips. "I've been thinking of all the ways I could reallyrepay you for what you did to me last time."

I blushed. "I believe you already did."

He leaned forward and left a long, wet kiss on my lips.

"I was thinking something a little more... orally fixated," he mumbled into my mouth, then dropped down to the nape of my neck and sucked on it.

I quietly whimpered and wrapped my fingers in his messy, wavy hair.

"I can't stay in here very long. I have a patient at two, and they're going to wonder why I'm in here if the guard is even paying attention to the security cameras."

"Don't worry about them," he mumbled into my neck, making me feel a pool of warmth in my panties.

I felt one of his long fingers slide up my skirt and rub at my underpants. I moaned into his ear, pushing my pelvis towards him. I felt his smile widen. My hand reached out and rubbed his groin, feeling his hard member bulging through his jumpsuit.

"You'd like my regular attire," he said, pushing a finger past my underpants, and rubbed it against my slick slit, "much easier to get into."

He was containing another loud cackle at his words, which I didn't find humorous at all. I unzipped his uniform and watched him slide his arms out of the short sleeves, revealing a plain white t-shirt. I reached into the opening and rubbed him through his underpants, feeling his heat burning into the palm of my hand.

As my hand was about to slide under the waistband of his underpants, my pager beeped. He growled and reached for the clip, making me swat his hands away.

"If that gets damaged, I'll have to pay for a new one," I warned.

I looked down at it, seeing it was a page from one of the nurses who was overseeing Ivy. Code Green - Ivy was having a tantrum again.

"I have to go," I said as I stood up and fixed my outfit. "It's an emergency. I'm sorry - I'll see you tomorrow for our session."

He stood up and gave me a long, hard kiss on the mouth, which led me feeling dizzy.

"To think, I was about to take you on my bed here," he whispered. "Ah, well... I guess that'll be a, um... dream to help me along tonight."

I smiled a bit at his snickering, then hurried out of his cell to tend to Ivy's needs.


	11. Cold, Cold Heart

**A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of rape. **

"According to Dr. Young's notes, she's prescribed the highest dose of Valium and Seroquel RX for you, and you say it's doing nothing for you?"

I was seated on Joker's bed, and he was chained to the bolted chair against the wall opposite of me. He sighed, the sound of his cuffs clinking as he rotated one of his pill bottles in his hands.

"Ritalin this, Ritalin that. If I'd have known it was this easy to get drugs, I'd have done this years ago."

I raised my eyebrows at him as I stared over the rim of my reading glasses at him.

"Are you experiencing any side effects?"

"Like I said, 'nothing,' Doc." He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, fridgeting in his spot.

I smirked at him, knowing he was growing tired of the mundane questions.

"We'll keep you on it for another week to see how things go. If there are still no changes, I'll change your medications. We're running low on options, though."

"What's left then, Doc? Shock therapy?" He lowered his gaze and licked his lips.

"Rarely used now."

"Perhaps a Lobotomy?"

"Illegal, I believe," I said as I took off my glasses and stood up.

He tried to reach out to touch my bare leg, but failed due to the chain length. I snickered at him and slowly approached his chair. His brown orbs were focused on my face, seeming both annoyed and amused at the situation.

"And what brand of therapy is this?" he asked as I lowered myself onto his lap.

"Mmm... Physical therapy. Those guards have been awfully rough with you - I think you need a little TLC to fix things..." My lips brushed against his, making him part his lips immediately at contact.

He rubbed my hips, trying to lower me down to his crotch as closely as possible.

"Problem?" I mumbled as I left a teasing kiss on his mouth.

"Fucking chair," he growled, leaning down in his seat as much as possible. "Say Lainey, you wouldn't happen to have a key for these, would you?"

I smirked at him.

"Why? I rather enjoy you tied up."

"Plan on smacking me around a little?" His voice was low, containing a sort of primal growl.

"I don't hit my patients." I unzipped his jumpsuit and pushed the shoulders off; this time he was bare-chested.

I took a moment to marvel at all the scars he had on his chest and stomach. They seemed to range from gunshots to stabbings. I hated to imagine what he'd been through, and how much of that he could've possibly done to himself.

"Going to stare at my battle scars, or are we going to actually get down to business here, hm?" His gaze was lowered.

"Sorry about that..." I muttered, pulling his already throbbing manhood out of his fly.

"You never address me beyond 'Patient 4479,'" he said, mocking his title at the end. "I told you to call me 'Mr. J' when we first met."

_It's impractical, but then again, so is this..._

"I'd prefer to know your real name."

He grabbed me by the sides of my face roughly, and jerked my head up, forcing me to look him dead in the eyes.

"Anyone ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat, Lainey?" His eyes were cold and serious, yet his smile widened. It was one of the most eerie things I'd seen.

"R-Right... I'm sorry."

"'I'm sorry' ...?"

"Mr. J..." I said quietly, feeling my stomach knotting as discomfort sat in. "I'm sorry, Mr. J."

"That's a good girl," he said, letting one hand go to my head to pat my dark locks.

_Don't anger him. I'd bet my life on him being able to slip out of those cuffs and kill you very slowly in at least twelve different ways._

_Naturally you'd find this very exciting, since you're a freak yourself._

He grabbed my hips again and pushed me forward.

"Take off your underpants," he demanded, jerking at my skirt.

I obliged, given how short-fused he was that day. Some days he was pretty calm, whether or not it was the medication causing it was beyond me. His hand went up my skirt and rubbed my folds, which grew slick with arousal.

"If I was free right now, I'd have your legs spread on that bed with my face between them," he said as his other hand managed to squeeze my ass.

"What would you want me to do?" I asked quietly, feeling my mind fog with pleasure.

"Enjoy yourself." He lifted my skirt as much as he could and wiggled his head underneath it.

I jumped a little in surprise, especially when his tongue came in contact with my womanhood. He held me by my thighs, keeping me planted. I felt his teeth grazing the lips, causing me to quiver against him. A quiet chuckle vibrated against me, making me want to moan like the desperate, nutty whore I was.

"One of these days we'll have to take this to your place, Lainey," he said with amusement before he sucked on the hood of my clitoris, making me lean forward with my hands on his shoulders for stability.

_Like that'll happen._

_He probably already knows where you live. Remember L, and how he located Derek with no effort? Don't think he hasn't followed you. Hell, you'd be even **easier** to find, given that Joker has your whole name._

I tried to quiet the voice in my head and enjoy the pleasure Joker was giving me. Referring to him as "Mr. J" seemed so bizarre, but then again, it _did_ have a slightly better ring to it than "Joker."

My head was rolling when his tongue darted out to lick my outer lips. I rested my cheek on top of his head, breathing heavily into his hair. His hands squeezed my ass hard just as a knock came at the heavy security door.

"Dr. Morgan, is everything alright in there? The session was up five minutes ago," came the voice of Officer Vacante.

I jumped back from Joker and pulled my underpants up. Joker stared at me, cuffed and unable to zip himself.

"Everything's fine," I said in my calmest voice, pulling Joker's zipper up and backing away from him, quickly collecting my paperwork. "I just lost a little track of time. I'll be right out."

"Okay, Doctor," came his friendly reply.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "We'll pick this up later."

"We'd better," he said, his makeup smudged. "Ya gotta little somethin'..." He pointed around his mouth.

I quickly wiped at my face, hoping there wasn't piles of white, black, and red all over me. He gave me the thumbs up.

"A quick kiss for the road?" he asked, licking his lips.

"Of course," I said, leaning down.

He grabbed my face again, and kissed me roughly.

"Mr. J," he muttered.

"Mr. J," I repeated.

That evening, Derek stopped by after work to visit. Maxwell made himself comfortable on my lap, refusing to move to even let Derek get close enough.

"Would you like some coffee? I could start a pot for you." I rubbed Maxwell's head, earning a purr from him.

"No, that's fine," he replied in a distant voice. "I stopped by because we need to talk about the wedding date."

I felt my stomach drop. Maxwell leaned his body back against my torso, trying to get more of my attention.

"What about it?" I asked, staring down at the black cat who claimed me several years ago.

I couldn't look at Derek; I already knew what he was going to say, and I didn't want to hear it. Hell, I didn't even completely know what I wanted. Screw around with Joker, then marry Derek and quit my job and head to Metropolis? That can't end well.

"I know it's set for next month on the 8th, but is there a chance we can bump it to maybe the next day, or the day after that? The band got a job for that night."

"Right... Of course. I mean, we did just agree on it yesterday, so I guess it wasn't enough time to let it be set in stone or anything," I said quietly, feeling bitter over his band _still_ coming first instead of me.

"Elaine," he said in a warning tone. "Don't start. It's a job. You know that you're still important to me, and this wedding means something to me."

"Which is why you're putting it on the backburner to play a night instead of using that day to marry me."

"It's not a big deal. The 10th is still fine, isn't it? It'll be a Monday."

"I'm working that day," I said in an annoyed tone. "People _work_ during the day, Derek. Nobody will be able to show up."

"We'll have the ceremony at night, and we can have the reception the following Friday or Saturday night. How's that?"

I looked up at him, giving him a look of complete disbelief.

"That's not how it even works! People usually do it early in the afternoon, then they wait a few hours before going to the reception in the evening. It's supposed to be fun, Derek. People look _forward_ to the reception for the alcohol and dancing. Nobody's going to want to show up at the wedding, then wait almost a week to get to the best part."

"Well, maybe we don't need a reception," he said in a stubborn, annoyed tone. "Like it or not, I'm still committed to this job."

"_Job_? It's not a job if you're enjoying it. And what about me, Derek? I'm going to be your _wife_."

Maxwell got up and leaped to the back of the couch, resting above my head, facing Derek.

_Always been the protective little tiger._

"I know that! Jesus Christ, Elaine. It's just one fucking night. Can you do it Monday night or not?"

"Fine," I said after a couple moments of frustrating silence.

I was angry, and he knew it. Part of me believed he _liked_ making me angry. I watched his lips curl into his annoying smile as he nodded.

"Good. Call the Chapel tomorrow and let them know it'll be Monday night. Make it eight, that way we both have time to get back from work and get ready. I'll take care of scheduling the reception."

"Alright..." I grumbled.

"Did you pick your maid of honor?"

"Nicole from work," I said quietly, recalling her excited reaction. Hell, she was more excited about it than me. "Did you pick a best man?"

"Dan," he responded.

"Your _brother_ Dan?" I stared at him, feeling my guts boil in disgust.

"Yes, my brother. He's the only one I've got, and it cheered him up. You work with murderers and God knows what else all day. Y ou can't put up with him at our wedding?"

"Derek, he raped_ five_ women and spent six years in prison. He's only been out for a couple years. You think people are going to want to come to our wedding when we have a _rapist_ there? Hell, do you think my _security officer_ friend will want to dance with someone like that?"

"For someone who treats the damn _Joker_ for a living, you sure are judgmental." He paused. "Speaking of him, I don't hear you say too many bad things about him. You rip at me and my band all the time, so why not him? I think he's done a lot worse than me or Dan."

_Murder is worse than rape? Murder is lights out - rape is something you have to live with for the rest of your life._

"He never raped anyone," I said, recalling Joker actually talking about the subject before.

_"Tying people up and watching that little spark of life leave their eyes? No problem. Mercilessly shoving my dick into someone while they don't want it? A pathetic way to torture someone. Weak - I can't **stomach** people who do something so pathetic,"_ his voice echoed in my head.

I was shocked to hear something like that come from him, especially since he held such little regard for human life that I assumed he would've raped dozens of women before he got anywhere near me. What made me believe him was the people he targeted at Arkham - the ones who were known to sexually harass some of the staff.

Of course, there was that riot that went down when I was off his case and he was bouncing between doctors... He managed to "accidentally" stab a serial rapist and schizophrenic in the stomach repeatedly, earning him more time in his cell (and isolation for a week after he was seen by a current shrink, and immediately being relieved of that person's services).

"That you know of," was Derek's reply. "I find it funny how you've gone far enough to _defend_ him a couple times when he's probably just feeding you lies."

_While he **is** a known liar, I've yet to actually catch him in a lie. More than I can say for you, Derek._

"It's my job to rehabilitate him. Besides, my sessions with him are confidential. We shouldn't even be discussing him. He's part of my job, and my job stays on Arkham Island."

"Oh, I'm sure." He stood up and straightened his coat. "Anyway, set the date for March 10th. I'll take care of the reception. I'm going to head home."

He stared down at me, expecting me to get up to show him out. I felt Maxwell curl onto my shoulders like a python, his back claws digging into my shoulder to keep me nailed to the couch.

"Alright. Talk to you later," I said, looking up at him.

He stared at me for a few moments before looking away, appearing to be extremely annoyed. He let out a loud sigh.

"See you later. By the way, _that_ might have to go when we move in together," he said, pointing at the black furball around my shoulders. "Text you when I'm home."

He walked out, leaving me to glare after him as I pet Maxwell, who climbed back down into my lap.

After I heard my apartment door shut, I pet Maxwell and stared ahead at the wall.

"I'm not letting him get rid of you, Max," I said quietly, rubbing behind his ear. "And I don't think I'm going to let him separate me from Joker, either."

**A/N: I understand that it may be out of character for Joker to loathe rapists/not be a rapist himself. It's never been implied in "The Dark Knight" that Joker would rape someone, but this little make-believer Joker I've concocted is not okay with this. Also, I apologize if I triggered someone during this chapter. That is never my intention.**


	12. My Funny Valentine

The following week, I was back in Joker's cell for our weekly therapy session (though I did drop by once before the weekend to pay him a little visit...), and he was still cuffed and shackled to his chair - well, correction: his feet were shackled, and his hands got out of the cuffs. How he managed to do it was beyond my comprehension.

"Since Valium and Seroquel RX aren't working for you, Dr. Woods recommended I prescribe the combination of Depikote and Geodon. With Depikote, we'll need to run more labs unfortunately, and we'll need to monitor your liver. Are you okay with this?"

Joker rested his hands behind his head, appearing to be bored by the medical talk.

"The Batman threw me off a building and I _laughed_ the whole way down until he caught me for some twisted reason. If this were a game of Chess, I'd say that was him swiping my Rook with his Bishop, when I expected him to throw out his Queen and put me in Checkmate." He leaned forward a bit. "And I _always_ win Chess."

"Bobby Fisher have some competition?" I smiled at him.

"He wouldn't know what hit him." He chuckled in his dark, creepy way that oddly grew on me.

"So you don't have much regard for your own life then, is that what you're saying?" I scribbled a few notes about his Chess references and the building incident.

"It was so unexpected, I just had to laugh, Doc!" He grinned as he returned to his neutral pose. "If I get blown up or shot, or maybe beaten in the head a few more times, it really doesn't matter much to me. Nothing's killed me yet!"

_Side note: Prescribe Citalopram to see how well he does on it..._

"This sounds like you may be in danger to yourself as well as others. I think I'll also prescribe _Celexa_ to see how you do on that, as it could help improve your own self image."

"My self image? I see nothing wrong with it." He grinned. "So when's the part you're going to show me ink blot cards so I can laugh at all the dirty pictures I see? That hasn't come up yet."

I sighed as I stared up at him over my reading glasses.

"That's the Rorschach inkblot test. That's used for personality tests. I've already established your diagnosis and personality type."

"Oh?" He sat up a bit in his chair, seeming more interested. "And what is wrong with my head, Lainey? What did that clever little brain of yours pick up?"

"Normally my patients don't ask me such questions, but..." I flipped through my notes on him. "I've come to the conclusion that you suffer from delusions of grandeur, psychosis, moderate to severe depression, antisocial personality disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder."

I noticed his knuckles turning white as I read off his diagnoses. He lunged forward as much as he could, trying to grab me by my arms. Luckily I was a few feet away from him on his bed, and he couldn't get out of the shackles.

"And what makes you think the latter? You know, you're too much fun for me to kill, Lainey. That's why you've lived as long as you have. You are mine, so I won't kill you..." he said in a quiet tone, almost like he was reassuring himself. "But why would you think I have post-traumatic stress disorder?"

"You show signs from Criterion D and E - aggressive behavior, self-destructive and reckless, your sleeping patterns are poor, your inability to recall your past, hypervigilance... Going by your response to this, I'm assuming I'm not too far off, am I?"

I tapped my pen against my paperwork, watching his body language closely. He was tense, and seemed like he would inject poison in my veins if he had access to any.

"If I'm gonna have a past, Lainey, I prefer it be multiple choice. Sometimes I remember things one way, sometimes another..." His tone was light, almost like he was amused. "It does _not_ mean you're able to delve into my mind and understand what's going on. You people make it sound so simple when it's _not_."

His mood flipped like a light switch, and he was becoming aggressive, which was extremely rare during our sessions.

"Then what is it? What are you feeling?"

"I feel... _nothing_." He stared me in the eyes - his cold, dead eyes were locked into mine; I felt dizzy and anxious under his gaze.

"I liked it better when you weren't being a doctor and were being you."

I sighed. "I'm a little distracted right now. This is what I have to fall back on."

"Oh?" His overall demeanor seemed to switch back into amused, as if nothing just happened between us.

"And what is going on in your mind, Lainey? Does it have to do with the swine?" he said with bitterness.

"Yes, actually," I said, having long given up on correcting Derek's name. "We set a date for next month, but he decided his band was more important, so he bumped the wedding by a couple days."

_It's definitely a good idea to discuss this with a patient._

"So..." he started, "am I invited? I do love wedding cake." He licked his lips.

"Like I said... I think that's against protocol."

"Who's the best man?"

"Derek's brother," I answered bitterly.

"Does he have a name?" Joker watched me, eyes full of amusement.

"Dan." I sighed. " Anyway, I believe we need to get back to work on a new treatment plan. I can't leave here without a more set plan for you."

His eyes widened as he suddenly leaned forward, body tense.

"_Leave_?" he repeated. "What do you mean leave?"

"Derek doesn't like Gotham," I said quietly. "His job is in Metropolis, and I should be able to find work there." Joker rolled his eyes.

"All about sacrifice... And what's he sacrificing for you, Lainey? Will he quit his precious band, and finally give in to your needs? Or will things just remain the same, only this time in a new place and a piece of paper that legally binds you two together until you're ready to claw his throat out?"

I cleared my throat. "I can't answer that. I don't even know."

He snickered and chuckled to himself, then he suddenly leaned forward, lowering his gaze on me.

"Where are you going on your honeymoon?" he asked in a low voice, licking his lips in the process.

"We haven't even talked about it," I said honestly. "The reception is going to be a week apart, too. He thinks people are going to show up at a wedding at _night_. Can you believe that?"

He snickered.

"Oh, I can believe many things..."

Valentine's Day came quickly, and not to my surprise Derek was playing out that night. He didn't bother to wish me a happy Valentine's Day, no flowers (not like that bit mattered) - nothing. He just acted like it was another day. I did suppose I could see a point there; it was just another commercialized holiday, but to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't have minded him making an effort to at least acknowledge the day. Maybe it was too much to ask for.

Regardless, I still had to work that day and I was a little more on edge than usual - Calendar Man managed to get out (along with the Riddler, that annoying bag of dicks. Riddle me this - What has two legs, a haughty attitude, and speaks with too much arrogance? Give up? An Enigma), and given that it was the big V-Day, something bad was guaranteed to go down.

A few years ago on Valentine's day, Calendar Man murdered numerous couples in a park and posed their bodies into the shape of bloody cartoon hearts. Dr. Young treated him for a while before he started creeping her out with his little rhymes and insinuated threats. People go on about Joker being kooky - to be honest, I think Calendar Man might be a little more nuts than him.

Joker... How he was starting to make my heart flutter at the very thought of him. A man in clown makeup, who killed people and blew up a hospital? Who could react so violently at the tiniest things? I might as well have gone for John Wayne Gacy.

He and I had a session the previous day, and he acted more odd than usual. We were less "official" than our previous session - he got himself out of his cuffs and we had our fun together (no sex, but he did get a couple orgasms out of me. That man could work magic with his fingers). The odd part was him talking about the upcoming holiday, and went into detail about the fantasy he was going to have that day - he and I alone, he'd blow up a mob bank, and we'd sit on a roof top nearby and watch the "fireworks" over dinner. It was mildly disturbing, but hey, at least someone was thinking about me, and wanted to do something with me... even if it was illegal and would result in the death of many innocent civilians.

_Christ, Elaine. You're going off the deep end. Maybe you two could share a cell together down the road._

Towards the end of my shift, I took an extremely long way out to punch out of my shift - I made my way through the cell block for level two patients. I passed by Ivy's cell, only to have her stare at me through the small window of the privacy door. She waved at me, holding up a flower she probably received from a guard she put under her toxin. Oddly enough, she never did that with me...

I smiled at her and waved, giving her the thumbs up because hey, at least someone could be happy that day.

_Condone the madness. You're brilliant._

I quickly passed Zsasz's cell, hoping he wasn't peeking through his little window at me, since he was one of the creepiest inmates there. I finally reached Joker's cell, after what seemed like a longer walk than usual to get there. I didn't plan on going in to visit him - I just wanted to see him. To admire his body, to relish the person he was, and all his insanity. Afterall, it wouldn't be long before I had to leave; I handed in my letter of resignation two days beforehand, so it was just a matter of weeks before he and I would have to say our final goodbye.

He was reclined on his bed, staring up at the metal ceiling of his cell. He appeared to be deep in thought, gone to the world. At that point I knew it wasn't the medication causing that, so I could only sit and wonder what went through his mind - was it the supposed fantasy he told me about? Was he thinking about how he could mess with Batman if he ever got out (and if Batman ever reappeared)?

I placed my hand against the door, longing to go in and bring him home with me (and hope he wouldn't murder me), and kiss Gotham goodbye and run away with him. I wasn't enthused about the idea of living a life of crime, but something about him made me want to drop everything and go wherever he directed.

_You need medication._

Less than an hour later, I was walking up the steps to my apartment. I could hear Maxwell mewing from inside, and I smiled a little at the sound of his greeting. I unlocked my door and was greeted by darkness (and a fuzzball rubbing against me). I flipped on the light switch and nearly jumped out of my skin at the large bouquet of red roses on my kitchen counter. There was a small note next to them, and a card attached to the vase.

I hurried through my apartment, checking to see if anything was missing (while armed with my aluminum baseball bat, because you never know if someone could be hiding in the closet or under the bed). After thoroughly examining my place, I found nothing missing and Maxwell was safe. I approached the flowers with caution, wondering if Ivy was behind it and finally planned to take me down with her toxin.

The small note next to the vase was from a familiar, yet faceless, person I hadn't heard from in quite a while -

_Boss said you might like these. _

_- L_

"Who are you, L, and how did you even know where I live..." I muttered as I picked up the card, which was in a white envelope with my name in messy handwriting scribbled on the center.

Inside was a homemade card, with a picture of Derek (how did I know it was Derek? There was an arrow pointed at "him" with '_Swine_' written above) being stabbed in the throat with numerous "ha ha"s written around it. On the back of the card, there was a short message -

_Happy Valentine's day, beautiful. Next year we'll go out and paint the town red._  
><em>- J<em>

I grinned at his message, regardless of the gruesome portrait he drew of Derek's death. I admired the beautiful bouquet, and felt my body go into shock since it was the first time I'd ever received flowers.

_You need a Lobotomy._

_He remembered! He actually did something for me! I should get him something in return, or do something for him. Why would he do this?_

_He's manipulating you, you damn loony. Something's up, and don't be one bit surprised if this somehow turns around and bites you in the ass. Get out. Now._

I picked a rose out of the bouquet and sniffed it, enjoying its sweet fragrance.

_Maybe this is just a small thank you for letting him wear his makeup._

_This isn't like him at all. He doesn't do nice things for people, and you know it. What is he planning?_


	13. Escaped

My final day at Arkham arrived; it was my wedding day (well... night), and all I could feel was an overwhelming sensation of sorrow and hopelessness. I didn't mind the job - I really liked a couple of my co-workers, Ivy and her little schemes could be amusing from time to time (and I was just fond of her overall), and most of all... I was going to miss Joker more than anyone or anything. We had our last session together the previous week, and as of the following day he would be Dr. Woods' patient. That Friday, I stopped by to say our last goodbyes.

It was a strange visit - he was fairly calm and looked as far away from tears as one could be, and I felt like crying over our parting. He was possessive when we had our sexual encounter (still no actual sex, but that was a little difficult to manage anyway), making me call him by his preferred alias, telling me that I belonged to him and nobody else would ever get to claim my body like he one day would (impossible), and how he was going to make sure he'd never have to share me with someone else. I was more than aware of how unhealthy and sickening something like that was, but at that point Joker had me completely charmed like a snake.

Nicole and I had are last lunch together, and she was chatting with excitement over how she and I would look in our dresses, how going with mint green was definitely the best choice given how it was nearly a spring wedding, and how Derek and I could finally have the life I'd been wanting for several years. I didn't have the heart to tell her I'd fallen out of love with Derek, and wanted nothing more than to take Joker from his cell and escape the life I'd made in Gotham. Nicole continued to gush about what the wedding would be like, and how handsome Greg was going to look in his tux.

"There's one thing I forgot to mention..." I said quietly.

She stopped going into detail about how attractive Greg looked with his new haircut.

"What?" she asked, coming out of her daze.

"You know how Derek's brother is going to be his best man?"

"Yeah, you told me more than once." She giggled. "What's the problem? Is he cute? I'm not going to cheat on Greg! He's definitely the one."

"It's not that." I sighed. "Dan was incarcerated for raping numerous women. He was released a while back. I just... thought you should know."

Nicole dropped the apple she'd been chomping on and stared at me with a dumbfounded look.

"You're joking, right?" A partial smile crept onto her face. "You always tell the worst jokes, Elaine."

"It's not. I wouldn't joke about this." I laid my head in my hands, feeling a headache and nausea come on. "I should have told you immediately, but I've still been a little shocked by his pick myself."

"Why the hell would he choose someone like _that_? Is he crazy?" Nicole picked up her apple and wiped it on a napkin. "I'm not dancing with that _thing_."

"You don't have to. Besides, the reception isn't until the weekend. You're pretty safe."

"Would it be socially acceptable if I kneed him in the nuts? I can do enough damage so he won't be able to use his prick ever again." She grinned deviously.

That was one thing I always liked about Nicole - she did tend to get to the point, and wasn't too afraid to speak her mind. She sounded a bit nutsy at times (like I was one to talk), but she always stood up for what she believed in, and she didn't back down. She'd go out of her way to punch someone in the face if she could get away with it (though she didn't handle the inmates at Arkham like that).

"I wouldn't mind, but you could kill your career."

"I can make it look like an accident." She grinned.

I laughed a little, though I still felt quite dead inside.

"I'm gonna miss having you around, kid," she said as she suddenly wrapped her arms around me. "You're the only doctor here who doesn't act like they're above everyone else."

"As in, doesn't see this as guards versus doctors?" I rested my head on her shoulder, feeling riddled with anxiety and disgust over leaving the place with Lyle Bolton still in charge of everyone.

"Exactly."

It was around five in the evening when the warning alarm went off in the asylum. I was finishing packing up my desk when the loud buzzing sound went off. My pager then beeped - _Code 229, Therapy center_. That meant one thing: a patient of _mine_ escaped, and Lyle was going to chew my ass out.

"Ivy, I swear to god if you escaped... _again_..." I muttered as I abandoned my box of items and hurried to the therapy center.

"Elaine! Thank God! Are you okay?" Nicole asked as she grabbed me by the shoulders as soon as I was close enough.

I stared at her oddly.

"I'm fine. Why? Who broke out?"

"Joker got out. He left a video, and..." She turned to her left and peeked around the corner with sadness in her eyes. "He killed Jerry."

_He's free? How'd he do it? Who let him out? Where is he?!_

"Why would he killed Jerry?"

"There've been rumors, but..." She sighed. "I guess they're true."

_Oh, god. Please don't let it be about the twisted relationship we had. Let all the squealers keep their big mouths shut._

"What rumors?" I asked with just enough interest so I (hopefully) didn't sound too suspicious.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard," Nicole said with a raised brow. "Word around the hospital is that Joker has at least one person working for him in here."

_That really wouldn't surprise me, given how he has cops and other various people working for him._

"Jerry always seemed so nice," I said with pity.

_Okay, that's a lie - I don't think I've ever even met a Jerry since I started here._

"Yeah. He used to walk me to my car when I had to cross the grounds at night. He knew there were scumbags working here, but to think that _he_ was actually kind of a scum bag..." She looked bitter, her eyes turned towards the corner, but not looking down.

I peeked around the corner and saw the corpse of a man in his forties - he was bald, with a husky build and wide shoulders. His skin was ghostly white, contrasting with the dark red that pooled around him on the pale blue floor.

"_Morgan_!" came Lyle's annoying, booming voice from behind us.

Nicole and I turned in unison, watching the burly man approach us, surrounding himself in his usual cloud of bitterness and hostility.

"Good evening, Officer Bolton," said Nicole.

"Cut the shit, Stevens. I see Dr. Arkham made yet another poor choice by putting you back on this case, for some reason believing that your so-called 'methods' would one day work. Well, now another man is fucking _dead_ and the clown got out of his cage. I'm aware there's hardly a brain between the two of you, but do you two think you could use it and figure out a way to locate him? My damn shift is nearly over, and I _don't_ want to spend any more time in this loony bin than I have to!

"You've been on his case for months, Morgan. Where would that freak go?" Lyle crossed his big arms, glaring down at me with as much disgust as a person could muster.

"I don't know, Officer Bolton. In case you've forgotten, I'm now no longer on the Asylum's payroll, and he's no longer my patient. It's not my problem," I said coolly.

_Okay, I'm pretty worried. Why would he bust out now? Why not months ago? Or just stay here, and I could sneak back in to peek at him once in a while?_

"God dammit, Morgan. You've always been dead weight." Lyle took out his phone and his the speed dial. "Stevens, who's taking over your shift?"

"Officer Wright," she said as she glared at him. "Elaine has been anything but dead weight around here."

"Mind that tongue, girl. Don't forget who your superior is here," he said as he pointed at the badge on his shirt with his free hand. "Dammit, Arkham! He won't answer. He left about half an hour before they discovered 4479 was missing."

"Nothing we can do about it," said Nicole. "We just have to hope that maybe he'll get hit by a truck or something instead of going on a massive killing spree... again."

An hour later, I was out of the hospital (only certain members of the staff could leave during a lockdown like that), and I had to fight off a few guards (mainly Nicole) threatening to call the GCPD to escort me home, and to my wedding.

"He's probably miles away from Gotham by now," I kept insisting.

I got home with just enough time to fix myself up and collect my dress before going to the church. Maxwell greeted me with his usual rubbing at my ankles. I fed him, and quickly noticed a DVD sitting on my counter top that was not mine.

_Lainey _it read.

"Joker," I muttered as I opened it.

I put the DVD in right away, knowing I didn't have time, but I had to know what was on it. Derek could wait - hell, he made me wait long enough. I didn't bother with checking over my apartment in case someone was lurking in the shadows, waiting to kill me - I figured a bomb or something would've gone off if he was planning my demise.

Joker's video was filled with metaphors about cards, and how they represented us. He dropped my name in there, which made me feel the need to burn the DVD so nobody would expect anything. He gave me a face card - the Queen of Hearts.

_Interesting_, I thought.

His speech went on, resulting in him flicking the whole deck onto the floor and tipping over the table that we sat at so many times, me trying to break through the barriers of his mind - trying to figure out what was going on in there; he toying with me as much as he could, and charming me somehow. I watched as a customized Joker card suddenly flicked into his hand as he stared at the camera from behind the table.

_Of course he can do that... _

"There's one in every deck," he said, "and it always shows up where you least expect it."

I stared as his eyes seemed to bore right into mine through the screen. I swallowed back the dry lump in my throat, wondering if it as somehow a message to me.

_What could this even mean? Is he going to pop up again one day? They'll catch him first - Commissioner Gordon would probably be fine with him dead at this point._

At the end of the video, he shot Jerry, and wrote three letters on the corpse's hand: "_BRB_."


End file.
